Charter Oak Church
he in his elegant black sits in the corner
will he touch... tread.. lightly between the rows
of the american gothic families
their drawn out figures seem to fasten
throughout the lengthy periods of the santuaries silence.
that same silence forged in the dusty seminaries
of luthern chapels keeps him sitting so very still
with folded hands and a hymnal upon his knee.
will he stoop.. pray... recall the years.
or count the pews that seem to separate
him from the rest of the flock.
now the interpretation of saints
and sinners dreams shines
through the stained glass
window to his right.
perhaps someone should give
him some bread half to remember
and half to forget.
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