the traffic cop

the policeman

at the church

directing traffic on a Saturday

afternoon

no less,

is flapping his arms

in all directions

and blowing his

whistle.

he's a rookie at this.

green behind the ears.

cars

are honking their horns,

there's anger

and dismay,

as the line

grows longer and

the snarl

of cars comes to a stop.

he wipes

the sweat off his young

brow

and begins to pray.

then Father Flannagan

arrives

to take over

with a cross in hand

and spraying

Holy Water, as the parishioners

wave.