The Church of the Redeemer

She smiles history

Changed now in the

Soft age of her eyes

Robed silent she sits

Above all the families

God eyed children

And veiled mothers

Correct in their pews

A few fathers

Their faces shadowed

With failing businesses

And absent sons

Their hopeless strength

Supports this place

Sure as any wall

I stand in the nave

Her smile my future

The small grace

Of husband, father, failure

Outside she meets my eyes

Through the back window

As the cars pull away

In an unsteady line

A hard, banal beauty

The one I am to know