Sunday morning at church

it

was a small 
Baptist church, celery green

and white

walls

within which provided a

calm

of sorts,

i took a peak

inside

at times to use the loo,

or find

a water fountain.

the pews shined of old

wood,

the burning of candles

hung in the air.

there would

be singing,

as pretty girls in dresses

sat, in virginal rows,

like so many

flowers yet picked.

i stopped

bouncing the ball

to watch them enter,

me in the lot

beside the church,

worshiping a different God,

with shirt off at the

basketball

court.