The small boy moves
through deep snow
down dark streets alone
to the boulevard
through the cold
to the lights of the churchfront
past thick wood doors inside
to warmth and candles and
colors and incense and
mystery.
An usher coughs.
The belt of a coat
slaps against a wooden pew.
A baby in the back
cries, is huddled close
and rocked.
Patrick T. Reardon
written @1980
Written by : Patrick T. Reardon
For more than three decades Patrick T. Reardon was an urban affairs writer, a feature writer, a columnist, and an editor for the Chicago Tribune. In 2000 he was one of a team of 50 staff members who won a Pulitzer Prize for explanatory reporting. Now a freelance writer and poet, he has contributed chapters to several books and is the author of Faith Stripped to Its Essence. His website is https://patricktreardon.com/.