Monday Morning – by Linda Gould
On Monday morning my brother
His voice goes on, through the phone,
about the Bible.
Not like the droning of big black flies in summer
but a clarinet playing a tune
I can’t quite follow.
From my kitchen table I’m distracted
by a redheaded woodpecker
working on a stump out beyond the drive.
My brother’s strength comes through God.
Mine too but I don’t wear the button, raise the banner.
He’s working hard on that stump,
probably looking to save my soul.
I wonder if there will be babies.
I ask, ‘what if a person doesn’t know how to read,
can he get the Jesus message any other way?’
Black, some white and that bright red head, beautiful.
I don’t hear the answer,
I’m distracted by my baby’s coo.
She’s not hungry, just baby talk.
He says the end of the world is coming.
I find that believable most days,
but today is as clear and bright
as the ting from pure crystal
I believe we will be granted another day.