Old Sunday



Slovak ladies in black babushkas
their men in black fedoras
black beads touched by fingertips     .. 
prayers sent up from fluttering lips

………. Svätá Mária, Matka Božia, pros za nás
………. hriešnych teraz i v hodinu smrti našej, Amen

byzantine bigtop’s
gold proscenium
in resounding box
of incense and incantations
echo the 1st millennium

alter boys and priests
shift here and there
bend and turn
make signs with hands
dance like candle wicks
but crisp and cool
they scratch
an itch

grandpa, his stone cathedral
hard and hoary
gentle big-bosomed grandma,
her eternal rosary

all murmur in
old Sunday’s glory

a synod’s take
on what was meant

not his teaching, but
their priestly
Blessed Sacrament

…………………..
Jim Culleny
April 14, 2006

……………………….

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