WordFaery

When I was a child,
I hated Sunday because
Church wasn’t until
the middle of the afternoon.

I had to wear a dress and behave
all day, didn’t dare scuff my white shoes
running around like a wild Indian—Because
on the Sabbath God rested.

Well– on Sunday when my Father rested
he put his feet up and read the paper
before knocking back a few beers
and telling loud remembrances

which sounded to me like
what God might have said to Gabriel
“You shoulda seen the look on that Egyptian’s face
when all that water came roaring back.”

Mom was in charge of Sunday.
She and I never did see
eye to eye about God
having a sense of humor.

04/23/06  WordFaery