Sunday afternoon

On a bench in the park

Friendly breeze

Moderating September heat.

She been to church

But it was nothin

Except people and practice.

God was almost silent.

Not the same

With Lloyd gone

He used to sing

Big and bold

With the tenors

And she sittin

Across an alto

And smilin at her man

Midst the songs of Zion.

Hardly seemed like Sunday

The rush all round.

But here in the park

Half way to the apartment

There was Church.

Laughter of children

Old men at the dominoes

Bright colour waking in the trees

Robin and goldfinch

Singing and stretching

For the coming trek.

Jessica with eyes closed

Felt His warm Hand

On her face

And began to speak out

“I was glad

When they said unto me.

Let us go into

The house of the Lord.

Our feet shall stand

Within thy gates

O Jerusalem.”


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