Two guitars on the communion table,
between water and road dust, while the Sister
of the God of the Poor, with her bent arm, smiling
in the night, out drawing water so her guests might bathe.

Moonlight piling against the wall of the Church of the Good Samaritan
and mosquitoes, in this heat, dried to a fuzz along the floor.

The Brother of the God of the Poor sitting on pews
stacked before the altar, wearing red robes and sweating,
whittling a new handle for a broken hoe.

Two guitars on the table
with warped necks and worn voices singing.

The new President raising his chilled glass
to the gleaming towers of sugar and salt

A son kneeling in grass, closing
the brown eyes of his father.


© 2006 by Steve Larson. All rights reserved.