Day Seven: ‘A List For St. Teresa’

April 7, 2017

Seven years I spent on that same street,
a short walk from St. Teresa’s, which between
school and church made itself inescapable.
But mom taught there, Pete in a higher class,
so I clipped on a black tie and swallowed.

We moved in ’97. Before that, some life;
first, me tiny in an urban house;
second, time in the park across the yard;
third, kneeling in playground broken glass;
fourth, sitting on the front stoop, ordinary;
fifth, watching fireworks, terrified;
sixth, cartoon basketball birthday parties;
seventh, getting up and leaving then.

Two years later, that urban house blazed up
but everyone’s okay. I can’t return,
not even if I wanted to. St. Teresa’s
closed too, condos now, no teachers left.
But Sunday services. Plenty of candles.


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