Twin Builders
TWIN BUILDERS
Took a break from years of research
And worked in a small town building a new church.
Local priest there resembled me, so they said.
Old ladies in the post office would stop dead
And tell me about their addict-son in court.
Folks out of hospital would thank me for my support.
So I went to the old church one day to see this guy:
Once seen, I could understand the reason why:
Holy Mackerel, he had same hair, eyes, height -
Everything, including my coat and jeans too tight.
First thing he said (after “My son” ) was
How tired he was of people asking him the cause
Of their leaky roof or how to extend a room.
I said anybody can help fix buildings; but only some
Can help fix souls. How strange that we two
Were both busy building up the church anew.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Entered in Matt Caliri’s Contest “Doppelganger”
Copyright © Sidney Beck | Year Posted 2011
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment