Sunday School TeacherOh,
Mother,
what whirlwind within you
made you
twist off
Pepsi bottle tops
like you were
tearing vice from youths?
What thrived in
shadows in you,
yet shone and rose
each time
you stole
a hymnal from a pew
and sang with
so much force
I swear I saw your tongue
sprout
ghost-white wings and fly away?
What
brush stroke could create you?
What camera
photographed you
and made me a negative?
William Christian
Copyright
©2005 William Christian
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