Wednesday, May 9, 2018

Kevin Patrick Hodgkiss writes

Church Lot

I came for prayer
I left my money there
My soul to bear
I swear

They sang so high
To something higher
In this house not one denier
One sale, everyone a buyer

But in a car across the street
Between the steering and the seat
In a dirty, rumbled heap
She awakens from her sleep

Many scratch-offs line the dash
None for treasure, all for trash
Through the window crack I slip some cash
And I leave fast

She drove away behind a cloud so gray
She saw the people who came to pray
She didn’t want to be in their way
She drove away.

To a crucified Jesus they knelt with pride
And put all their daily troubles aside
In a room holy and beautified
Safe from whatever sleeps outside.

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