On Sundays, the preacher gives everyone a chance
to repent their sins. Miss Edna makes me go
to church. She wears a bright hat
I wear my suit. Babies dress in lace.
Girls my age, some pretty, some not so
pretty. Old ladies and men nodding.
Miss Edna every now and then throwing her hand
in the air. Saying Yes, Lord and Preach!
I sneak a pen from my back pocket,
bend down low like I dropped something.
The chorus marches up behind the preacher
clapping and humming and getting ready to sing.
I write the word HOPE on my hand.
This poem can be found in the volume, Locomotion.
Think about what the poem made you feel. Did the spiritual language make you nostalgic, or cringe? Could you picture the actions taking place in the prose? Did you feel the same hope the narrator claimed?
May you live out another beautiful poem in the collection of your life today, and we’ll see you tomorrow.