Sunday, April 20, 2014

Sunday Service

Everyone is dressed
to the nines, tens and elevens
like somehow dressing better
will get you into heaven,
and I am no different. 

I wear your hat
that's too small
that you snatched
from a Saks box
left at your door
and something black
to hide the fat rolls. 

I haven't been seen
here before,
or in a long time.
Not since you left.
I've tried to come
and say my peace
but I've not made it yet.

I can't. 
Maybe this time
will be different. 
No judgment,
no questions.
Just love
and acceptance. 
Isn't that how
it's supposed to be?

I bow my head
and let myself
hope - 
maybe this time
I will come home.

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