Monday, April 11, 2011


  susan ambrosino

You find yourself looking through the church doors
of your kitchen window many times each day, watching
for saints in the altar of your garden,
and each time you look
you enter from your own state of mind.

You always knew the footprints in the sand
were really your own,
perhaps they belonged to the 'future you' walking backwards.
What is time anyway ?
perhaps just rain sliding down the window glass.

You've turned your back on the sadness
of your mother's unmade bed in the late afternoon,
the trash television and sourdough pretzels with lots of salt,
knowing 'muffintop' was just colloquial denial for
not doing anything about it.

Then your desire of 15 years ago is fulfilled by your
daughter asking you to come to church with her,
except it's too late, you don't want that anymore,
you'd rather she walked through the trees with you,
it feels so nice to think she's entering that place where you were
when you went to church,
and that's good,
so you go
and you smile,
you sing Sanctus! Agnus Dei ! Gloria !
the whole falling down on your knees thing.

Funny thing, time !
you take a step backwards to pull your darling

and you take a step forward

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