Today my mother gave me a church-
Be good to it Mollie, it is sacred
It's a white church that sits on Beth Hill-
a quart of mud and marble on bread.
Saints and hail rain on this month of March.
Preacher, please help me.
Her breath reaches its height-
Go right now and fetch me some tea, amen.
I watched Mother dance down the aisle,
her hands touching in prayer position.
My heart aches for her.
Thunder in the distance smells magnificent.
Mother is gone. I kneel to pray.
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