Sunday Service
|
Sunday Service
She never missed a Sunday service
Eyes wide open, ears listening
Hoping for just one answered prayer
My sisters and I slept on the pews
The bills piled high
Food supply low
She struggled through the day
Cried over the sink after dinner
Alone
Burdened by children
She found refuge in romance novels
Long baths
She withdrew
Oh what she was missing
She knew
Her dresses were old
Her perfume faint but steady
I remember their faces
I felt ashamed
A basket of money
A box of tissue
On her knees
She smiled through the pain
We sang in the car on the way to the store
|
Poetry is finer and more philosophical than history; for poetry expresses the universal, and history only the particular.
Aristotle (384 BC-322 BC) Greek philosopher.