The church, one avenue away,
looks like every church in the borough—
Chartres has nothing to worry about.
But I like going by when there’s
no service, when the sexton alone
has the run of his small kingdom
and during the summer we can spend
a few minutes analyzing the latest ballgame.
The stained glass windows
are losing color by the year, which gives
the facade a strange sort of permanence.
I sometimes hear the sound of wings
brushing hard against the walls, angels
I hope who’ve come to challenge me
again with their array of fastballs and the best
sliders this side of heaven.
Tim Suermondt is the author of two full-length collections, Trying to Help the Elephant Man Dance (The Backwaters Press, 2007 ) and Just Beautiful (New York Quarterly Books, 2010). He has published poems in Poetry, The Georgia Review, Blackbird, Able Muse, Prairie Schooner, PANK, Bellevue Literary Review, Stand Magazine, and forthcoming in december magazine, Plume Poetry Journal, and North Dakota Quarterly. He lives in Cambridge.
Photo by Sarah Clark