8 o’clock service is only half an hour –
pack all your sins into 30 minutes –
We drive past St. Catherine’s to park
my father and mother cross themselves
my sister’s yawn echoes my own mouth

the heavy wooden doors
mark where silence must begin,
doors too heavy for a child to open.

the smell of religion,
candles and old people
fingers in the fount
the water burns my forehead
it takes five minutes to evaporate -
I was allowed to wear my watch.

genuflect
My mother orders my gum into her hand
giving my sister time to hide hers behind
her molars
paint paid for by parish’s bingo is
peeling off the ceiling.

Father Dominic climbs behind the alter
years of practice fill his voice with condemnation –
seven old people count their rosaries.

cup my hands, left over right
genuflect when passing the crucifix.
The old people open their mouths
to receive the wafer,
don’t chew.

Go in peace
must not exit before Father leaves the alter
holy water on my forehead,
leave through the wooden doors
and wipe it off this time.

- S. Trunzo