Church attendance is up—
the parking lot is packed.
People wait with anxious faces,
day-worn and dreary in the early evening cold,
eager to receive the warm comfort
of a meal they didn’t make,
a bit of tender nourishment
amidst the hectic rush
and flow of pandemic worries…
I watch them as I walk by to pick up my daughter from ballet,
these people united though apart,
their cars waiting in line
at Church’s Chicken.
Just East Of Crazy Land 
That is a good surprise ending, I thought you were writing about your church! Funny name for a chicken place, did you ever try it?
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I’m glad you liked it! I think I may have had their fries…the kids have had it a few times as it’s across from ballet.
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Yes we use their sign as a landmark to find your street when we visit🤗
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Ahhh, heavenly wings for me please!! Your poetic sense of humour is very appreciated on this blustery Friday. Thank you, Anna!
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Lovely Caroline! Thanks for commenting. I’m glad you like it! 🤣
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Okay Anna , you got me. I read your poem early this morning and obviously didn’t do a good job of it. Karen asked me if I’d read it , to which I replied. YES !
I continued to explain to her that the meal you were talking about was the Eucharist and that when I got home I was going to call with a reminder about how it wasn’t a good idea to go into church with so many people and that you should go when it wasn’t so busy. It wasn’t until I had finished ranting to Karen that she asked me if I’d read the last word of your poem. CHICKEN . I thought you’d find this funny especially since I told you a very similar story that your daughter told me a few weeks ago. 🤪
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Haha, that’s hilarious! Gotcha! 🤣
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