Friday, June 26, 2015

Clear Conscience

We joked and laughed
As quietly as we could
While seated at the back
Of the church hardly ten minutes
Into Saturday evening mass
And whispered that we'd need
A weekend to make a full confession

And when Sunday came we climbed
To heavenly heights to hear
A host of gulls screech and
Glide over southern cliffs,
And under the pagan sun
Of the summer solstice
Our skin burned for our sins.