Choirboy

Choirboy

Saturday

He tips another up to the sagging, cherubic lip

and drinks a beer from a wide-hipped bottle

down

singing praises within

blue notes and bluer words, still.

Worships

In the pale, cool hours of a smoky bar

he communes with strangers

Sunday

the royal blue robe stains him

He sings hallelujah.

Fellowship Hall

coffee, creamer and sugar

He saves two doughnuts

Raised.

One for him and 

one for his mother. —  JBea Young

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s