without prelude of niceties:
‘t was a nice sermon pastor
but Jesus wasn’t there . . .

had soneone else
been so abruptly honest
I would have sputtered
to him I said
don’t I know it Pete

we must pray then
each for ourselves

for a moment I was glad
I wouldn’t be whipped
around the ears
by his undoubtedly
honest words

a simple man
he could not
formulate thoughts
without lips moving along

every now and then
like birds escaping
from a cage door
single words escaped
and fluttered
through my study

gracious – everlasting
the reverend – sovereign God
that he might – Jesus

he retrieved his cap
which he had plunked
on the ledge of my bookcase

suddenly his cracked fingers
moved from book to book
lovingly
as if he stroked
his wife’s hair
now probably his only way
of endearment

his eyes dwelled for a while
on my graduation picture
between the two bookcases
brushcut and unbearded
then got around to me
some extra crease
around the eyes
as if to say
how people can change

instead he whispered
isn’t it amazing pastor
that so much was written
about one single man?
you changed
He don’t