Sunday sermon on
a crooked sidewalk
A homily of grace
for each other.
The night a misty friend
enclosing us in,
Its quiet street lights
and lush green lawns,
Your footsteps chasing
and echoing mine,
My footsteps Morse-coding
back to yours.
I do not know
what they said.
Some veil of beginning where
expectations had once
Insisted on change but
wisdom acquiesced in peace.
A blessing to see
you and feel
Your gentle hand
touch my back
While we walked
and talked and
Pretended to have answers for
the mystery of
It all.
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