Brian’sPoems

Catholic Kid

Memories of Sunday mornings...

When I was a child
I would kneel in church,
looking down at my knees
while I worried earnestly
about becoming cross-eyed.

My mother preferred we sit
in one of the transepts,
and I admit liking it too,
because the ceiling was lower
and the light much brighter.

Along with everyone else,
I knew all the rituals of Mass
and responded, when prompted,
in a monotone voice.

I eagerly anticipated
the holy communion
and my chance to count
all the different shoes
shuffling past our pew.

Afterwards, I would stare
at all the votive candles
while squinting my eyes
and smiling at the inferno.

Then the Mass would end
when the priest proclaimed,
Go in peace to love and serve...