Church

On Sundays, the preacher gives everyone a chance

to repent their sins. Miss Edna makes me go

to church. She wears a bright hat

I wear my suit. Babies dress in lace.

Girls my age, some pretty, some not so

pretty. Old ladies and men nodding.

Miss Edna every now and then throwing her hand

in the air. Saying Yes, Lord and Preach!

I sneak a pen from my back pocket,

bend down low like I dropped something.

The chorus marches up behind the preacher

clapping and humming and getting ready to sing.

I write the word HOPE on my hand.