Doing Time

Sometimes when the choir sings

Their robes rustle when they rise

The joy their tempered voices bring

When it’s time to loosen ties

Finally, signaled by their last song

The preacher’s final prayer is done

Seems the sermon was hours long

For the benefit of souls already won

The congregation stands and turns

Greeting neighbors, friends and kin

In the basement are coffee urns

When the pot-luck lunch begins

What a way to spend the day

When Sunday church is done

When you’d rather get away

And fish ‘til the setting sun

©4/6/09Terry Sutherland