Off to the park

Just inside black iron gate posts

Along a row of pew type benches

For bemused parishioners

Two frizzy haired priestesses

Clad in street-stained joking suits

And a beard-spittled medicine man

Cloaked in a 30-gallon trash bag

In case of rain


Bob and weave

Rock and sway

Kick and spit ritual howls

As they pass

A brown bagged pint

Of cheap communion wine

Back and forth

Up and down

Gulp and giggle

Sublime and fickle

The universe favors

The compassionate

As the offer prayers

To the hawk and wild iris