Nothing like white bread and ham
to bring us back down to earth
after all those heavy organ notes
and bad singing and contemplation
of the great black beyond
and the great deal
the preacher says it is;
nothing like a steaming cup
of stout Lutheran coffee
to wash down all that dust-to-dust,
ashes-to-ashes that sounded so like
poetry in the version of King James
but seems a world away
in the paneled church basement
where old ladies
whose hands look like lefse
make sure that no table has an empty pot,
cut sponge cake so sweet
you can't turn it down,
worry whether there'll be enough
because a big crowd is starting to come in,
talking small talk with old friends
about how awful cold April can be,
how hard it is to believe
that five minutes ago
we put a good man in the ground
and then came back here
to take our place in line.
[Steven Schild, 'Sandwiches after the Service', from 33 Minnesota Poets]
No comments:
Post a Comment