At The End Of The Dawn Mass

at the end of the dawn mass
she still hears the bells ringing

she still sees the white cassock
the cool air she feels inside her

heart and the restrained conver
sations inside the church she

likes to keep on going and
going because her loneliness

creeps like a centipede on
the side of her arms so gently

without any feet so tenderly
like she does want this moment

to leave her anymore, she nods
and kneels and says yes to every

thing to anything in her life there
are not more reasons why she

should be meticulous about
which way to go which option

to take which way to make her
self alive, to find her meaning.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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