in Concert at the Church Hall at Easter
Their souls became
the music
scaling merry
eighth notes
set in triple meter time
the aging minister
bowed over
his graceful fingers
rippling the grand white grin
of the keyboard
unaware that the spirits
of the elderly,
the lame,
the sorrowing,
those wearing sackcloth and ashes
silent as tombstones
in rows of folding chairs
had risen.
