the woman stealing money
from the church.
quiet as
a church mouse, she was.
plain
and ordinary, a peaceful
soul.
but what to do?
she did the accounting
for decades,
nine to five,
weekends too.
there were flowers
on her desk.
but little did anyone
know
how she cooked the books.
no one questioned
her mink stoles,
her trips to Europe,
her Mercedes Benz,
the jewelry, the silver
the gold.
everyone seemed to have
their eyes closed
as they knelt in prayer.
everyone was surprised,
shocked.
how could there be
a sinner amongst us,
especially her.
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