Eleanor
Eleanor cleans the church
Wednesdays, Sundays
And after weddings on other days
She sweeps up the rice
Remembering her own wedding
So many years ago
She is lonely
Her husband was killed
In the Vietnam war
And her children
Never call anymore
Father McKenzie reads from
A tattered yellow sermon
For the few old people
Who straggle in
With their sins
He is lonely
And has little to do
He prays to God
To take him home
Now they tell him
Eleanor was found dead in a pew
Eleanor Rigby Who was she Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Jerry T. Curtis
8/12/19
Copyright © Timothy Mcguire | Year Posted 2019
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