God Hangs Out the Wash
The sun was almost dead in the west
Thunder belching boldly in the east
Gabriel was churning up a dust cloud
Chariot wheels spinning across Dry Canyon floor
God grins as her mighty hand sweeps
Across the dark fading star-filled sky
Lightning strikes! Gabriel slaps the reins
Rickety old church on the plain begins to shake
“And Gawd says…” began the preacher in the pulpit
Thunder drowned out his thoughts and words
Mighty gust of wind: Pnuema
πνεύμα straight from between her grinning teeth
Church doors shredded into toothpicks
Lightning split wide the roof
Steeple fell to the narthex
Gabriel stood firm in the center isle
“Mercy,” he spoke in a whisper
As far as the Easterly thunder
From the deadness of the sun in the West
“Mercy,” he spoke it a little louder
Parish people dared to open their eyes in prayer
Preacher prostrate, alter fire blazed in prayer
Gabriel stood firm in the sacred silence
Someone knocked at the little house on Main
Two in bed and love interrupted
Lizzie lit the light and saw
Mattie asked, “Who is it?”
Lizzie replied, “It’s the Lawd!”
A dozen roses on the front porch at night
God grinned and Gabriel stood firm
Parish people peeking
Preacher prostrate
Mattie and Lizzie in love
Chariot wheels spinning across Dry Canyon floor
“MERCY,” cries Gabriel
“MERCY,” rings off the canyon walls
Easterly sun on the rise
God grins into another day as she hangs out the wash
Dayvid Graybill
Copyright ©2011
Love and a shot of hard cider,
Sage