Did you get lost going through the old neighborhood?
The tiny houses have pulled down their shades
to protect themselves from people like me
who peek into windows of the past.
Were apple trees on Edgemere Drive and where
is the turn to the Catholic church next to our
first house in Kansas where a little girl read books
to her mom who couldn't say the English words correctly?
Muddy memories cloud my way
but it's dark and cold and the music is playing
calling me home to the place that once was
my beginning.
The parking lot is full with sounds of singing
and the air is thick with incense and unfamiliar faces.
The present has blurred back to blue plaid uniforms,
little girls laughing and whiffs of bologne sandwiches.
Alleluia, alleluia, it's midnight mass.
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