Holiday Christian

Spring's grace
A seldom-worn Easter dress
showing knobby knees, white
cotton gloves stained by last year’s
grassy green, patented Mary
Janes puddled with holey
socks in loose elastic, the stiff
straw boater’s angry band that
choked my trembling chin,
unfamiliar children who pushed
me from their hard-earned
Sunday school wins, while I
hunted for a soft place to belong,
out the door inside sweet meadows
of spring’s grace and nature’s fellows.

NaPoWriMo #20

I’m writing a poem every day in April as part of NaPoWriMo’s celebration of National Poetry Month. Won’t you join me in poetry?


6 thoughts on “Holiday Christian

  1. “…while I hunted for a soft place to belong/out the door inside sweet meadows/of spring’s grace….” Merely one highlight of a memorable, sensuous, evocative poem. Thank you.

  2. I too was drawn to the line “while I hunted for a soft place to belong.” I read that several times, thinking how well that sums up the whole poem and much of life. We all seek that soft place to belong. I think the tactile quality of this is exceptional.

    1. It’s easy to remember all the uncomfortable bits to only going to church for Christmas and Easter. And why was the clothing so torturous growing up back then? Today’s kids clothing looks so comfortable. Thanks, Maureen!

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