Some Sundays

Not always, but some Sunday afternoons you can
hardly find a parking place in front of the library.
This phenomenon is as reassuring as August rain.
You march inside and the joint is jumping with saints
of varying pedigree eyeing the spines of writers.
If you listen closer than the quiet you can hear the
patrons’ prayer those sometime Sunday afternoons:
Fill us with glory, shape us with gradualness. Amen.

From the beautiful due.

Love Wins

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