ON THE TRAIN FROM DUNELLEN • by Lucy Gregg Muir

Good morning, Padre,

I say to myself when I see you.

 

I want to stop, to tell you

I feel lucky

on the mornings I see you in the distance,

shoulders hunched in your black jacket,

bucking the wind,

black watch cap over your eyes,

head down, pushing onward

to the newsstand, to the coffee shop,

to settle into your post mass day,

echoes of thickly accented prayers

drifting toward

the Polish door to heaven.

 

Good morning, Padre,

I say, knowing full well

I speak the wrong

language

 

 


Lucy Gregg Muir is as a middle school English teacher. When she’s not beating her students with a stick for splitting infinitives, or chasing one daughter out of tattoo emporiums and the other away from absurd My Little Pony videos, she writes.


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ON THE TRAIN FROM DUNELLEN • by Lucy Gregg Muir, 4.7 out of 5 based on 6 ratings
Posted on May 14, 2014 in Literary
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  • Teri Cross Chetwood

    Nice poem, Lucy. Thank you for sharing.

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