Most nights I can see the lit steeple
of the church where I was baptized.
I returned there only to play basketball
or Friday night dances where once
I may have kissed a girl named Cheryl.

I was a little kid in another church
not five miles from where I sit, playing
with the glass eyes of my mother’s
mink stole, when the church PA
picked up an AM station spinning
Freddie “Boom Boom” Cannon,
so let us pray, “you’ll never know
how  great a kiss can feel.” Amen.

My father’s funeral was in the Lutheran church
across Auburn Street from my junior high.
During prayer, my grandmother whispered,
“wouldn’t it be nice if he popped open
that lid and said – just kidding?”

The year before, I was married there
on a rainy night in June.
God was stern then. Still,
it would have been nice.


Photo: Cathedral of The Immaculate Conception,
Portland, Maine – September 2018

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s