Thursday, May 17, 2012

From the West Down To The East

Every Distance is Not Near

There's a steeple. It's hidden. She probably hasn't seen it.

But it's there. Up the hill. Behind the park.

Years ago there may have been a congregation. Weddings. Celebration.

Now, it's just a building. With a steeple.

The sun was blinding that day. She probably doesn't remember it.

But it was blinding.

And it reflected off the stained glass.

I saw it that day.

There was waiting.

In the lobby.

And there might have been tea.

And I didn't know why I was there.

There were other places to be. Other things to see.

And maybe in that way I was like the steeple.

Up the hill. With many other things going on. Maybe she didn't notice.

She may have been looking somewhere else. Or shielding her eyes from the sun.

Or drinking tea.

And the phone rang. Shrill. Interrupting.

There may have been flowers that day.

I don't quite remember.

I may have to go back up the hill. And ask the steeple.

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