chasing the trance

old ladies, swaying, clapping
moving to that strange unseemly rhythm
blue hair, silken, unnatural hair
praying in the dimmery of the day
done chasing lost souls, are they
?

sit down where the old men hunker
polished pews, flickered candles
as they watch their women
chase the trance, watch their
tongues call jesus

holy, holy, what a fine diversion
keeps me satisfied, keeps me warm
ain't no devil knocking, knocking
at this homely, cherished door
listen, won't you, to salvation
may keep you kneeling
on the floor

old ladies, swaying, praying
up to the dawn
selling penance, oh ain't it pretty
i hear forgiveness in the wind
yes, if i had my way, that hot wind
would kiss these lips, and
i'd burn this old place down

feeling the call

looking at pictures, watching them fade
as black into gray, white is no clearer
when days are gone long
yes, momma used to jitterbug
in skirts with no pleats, her
shoes gone to goodwill, sunday morn
photos of picnics, iced tea and stained lace
yes, watching them fade

i can rock by the mirror, as after
noon slides, tap my toes in the
summer blown dust, watching them fade
gone autumn, gone cold, wintry silver
takes hold of my hair, but i rock
by the mirror, and see only sun
flying by

may be movies are twirling, and
flickering at night, choppy voices from
places forgot, was i ever so gentle
did i smile when you sang, was i shorter
or taller, as slender as air, or am i
dreaming the long shallow dream

this house calls a reckoning, for
paying the tab, for hours we've borrowed
one, at a time; there's an end to a debt
says a tale i once heard, there's a time
when you'll follow, was i ever enough
but i'm gone in my roaming, as i rock
in this chair

feeling the call