some of us,
from hunger and thirst,
our knees sore
from kneeling,
would pass out and hit
our heads
on the pews.
the mass was in latin,
high mass took at
least an hour.
confession and penance.
beating on
our hearts and crossing
ourselves.
there was incense too,
the stained glass letting in
strange clouds
of colored hues.
the cross
above the altar.
Christ in death.
what wasn't there to
scare you
into being good, or at
least trying.
Sunday, July 16, 2017
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1 comment:
I think all the childhood stuff of the Catholic church --the First Holy Communion, the First Confession, the penance --all that --is a great well for poetry.
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