filling and unfilling

the policeman
with his whistle
and dark hat,
his sunglasses
tight around
his eyes, the
uniform belted
and starched,
waves into
the parking lot
anxious parishoners
bent on not finding
god, necessarily,
but in
punching that
guilt clock.
the cars come
nearly all days,
filling and unfilling
the large
striped lot,
no different
than you or I
perhaps, with
what we believe,
or not.