The church with dirty elbows,
whitewashed knees
finally shuts its doors,
sucks in its steeple.
We watch it shrivel.
Bells sway in paroxysms,
chime mute blows.
The sanctuary stiffens.
Pews turn blue.
The altar moans.
No one’s left
to care
if the emeralds and purples
of the stained-glass Christ
weep shards of blood.
Image credit: Niki Feijen photograph of an abandoned church in the Netherlands
Marsha Mathews is Professor Emerita, Dalton State College, Dalton, GA. During the 1990s, Marsha served as an Ordained Minister in the United Methodist Church. Her poems have appeared in Appalachian Heritage, The Fourth River Best Writings of the Decade; Delmarva Review; Gargoyle; Raleigh Review; War, Literature & the Arts; and many other fine journals. Mathews has four chapbooks; Growing Up with Pigtails won the Georgia Author of the Year Award for Young Adults. Her first full collection of poetry, BEAUTY BOUND, (Main Street Rag 2019) explores human extremes to attain attractiveness.
Latest posts by Marsha Mathews (see all)
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Very nice!