East

East

East

I was born on the east side
of the lake, mid-way up the hill.
Above the old power station
with the tall slim stacks. Sparks
flew out of those stacks at night.
Like hot rain. And sometimes it

glowed red like those pictures
of hell in my children’s bible.
That bible scared the hell
out of me; gave me nightmares.
And there was this weird shaped
church at the top of the hill.

It had a round roof, like an opal
that should be set into a ring.
It didn’t seem like a proper church
to me. Churches should look like
the one that Peter Pan and Wendy
flew over at night, not a round top

thing with no pointy bits sticking
upward. If there’s no pointy bit
pointing up, how do you know
which direction is heaven….
That’s what I always thought.

But when the moon was full,
that weird shaped church with its
round roof glowed like heaven.
Maybe heaven is east of the lake,
at the top of the hill,
above that old power station,
the one with those tall slim stacks.

 

 

 

NovPAD Day 20, a compass direction

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