Sunday, March 4, 2012


artwork: ralph murre

Without Priests or Robes
by Julie C. Eger

I remember a time when
Mama moved the furniture
to give us more room
as Dick Rodgers, Fritz Willfarht
and the rest of the players
would come in on WLUK
TV Station out of Green Bay
at 10:00 on Sunday mornings
while other kids were sitting in cars,
mothers slicking back hair with spit,
straightening collars, and scolding them
to stand up straight as they walked to their pews.
Mama cranked the volume on the TV
and with hands together, chins up,
shoulders locked, right foot back,
back together back, counting
one-uh-two, one-uh-two,
we would polka all our cares away
and before Tuba Dan
put down his bouncing tuba,
without priests or robes,
without altars or smoke,
all my sins were forgiven.

~ previously published at Your Daily Poem