Sunrise Service

on an easter when i still believed
on the western bank of the saint clair river
in a park where my father and i were setting out folding chairs
just before the sunrise

he in his minister’s gown
was surprised that i was up so early
on a sunday
since i didn’t like church

but what i didn’t like was
the oppressive carved mahagony that inhaled the light
and the stale coffee that lingered in every crevice
and the smell of old people and guilt
and the organ whose pipes reached up up to the ceiling
and my father behind a pulpit
booming at us in our pews
untouchable and unreachable

this was not that
this was a different sort of church
the wind just a bit too chilly
the dawn just a bit too bright
the grass just a bit too wet

and my father
even in his minister’s gown
touchable and reachable

before anyone else was there
just the two of us
there on an easter morning
on the western bank of the saint clair river
just before the sunrise

— Clio 04.04.21

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