The Sunday Visitor

Three pews from the back of the church she sat,
An aging pearl in jasper company;
Embraced in white vesture and radiant.

A woman defined by purpose rather
Than the drug of wanton human excess;
Selflessness equals greatness. Now repeat.

Mass came and went like all Sundays before.
Cars departed from the steeple’s shadow;
The sun’s endless clockwork a tick past ten.

But my mind still keeps regressing back to
The woman who sat a pew beyond me;
Leaving the convent for a morning stroll.

There was something curious about her
The Sunday visitor who came and went;
So close to death,
Even closer to life.

by Jeremy D. Grimes

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