Friday, September 7, 2018

Confessions Of A Confessional

Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned . . .

Again with the coveting, Gwendolyn?
You're such a naughty girl!
All this longing
for the belongings
of another.

Day after day after day,
I scrub at stains of gray
knowing true black hearts
here
will never enter

Oh, go, Gwendolyn, go!
Go in peace, go with God -
secure
in your purity
and salvation.

Me, I'll be here
with my ready, wooden ear
to hear confessions
of man's lack
of imagination!

4 comments:

Sherry Blue Sky said...

Ha, I especially love your closing stanza. That wooden ear is wonderful!

said...

I love the second stanza.

Fireblossom said...

Maybe try the saloon or the jailhouse?

Brendan MacOdrum said...

"Day after day after day, / I scrub at stains of gray / knowing true black hearts / here / will never enter ..." 'Tis the great sin of my suburban poetry. Miss you. This poem would fit well in my last Imaginary Garden challenge tomorrow, maybe we'll see ya there.