Before the Fire

We entered Notre Dame before the fire, J and I.
A nonbeliever all my life, I love to tour fine old
Churches, to absorb the ornate, aptly awesome
Features found within them. We crept down
An aisle, pointing, only whispering, as mass
Was being held nearby. In time, I turned and J
Was gone. I thought she'd walked ahead.
I tend to take too long to look at things. When
I had made my way around, I assumed I'd find
Her waiting near the entrance, keen to leave,
To press on with our tour of Paris, but she wasn't
There. To my surprise, she'd gone inside the nave,
And settled on a pew toward the rear to hear
The priest. He spoke in French, of course,
Which she could understand. It seemed as if she,
Dragged to church when young, but lately
Without faith, was curious to see how it would
Feel to find what she had lost.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 35 times
Written on 2020-09-29 at 17:36

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