Venerable Sunday afternoons ebb and flow,

Through the labyrinth of thanksgiving service,

A garland of praises charmed

I feel a thousand years old
sitting here
smoking the ages away

my heart and my head
filled with regret
filled with promise
some

This place is paradise,
I'm sure,
but sometimes I need more than warmth.

It's with beach towels over shoulders
and flip flops

You came into my room unannounced after years
and we played our old parts just like stars
"what do you want?""." you asked

Sunday afternoon
after the morning church is through
I'm usually sitting around
wondering just what to do

there's not much
going