Sunday Shoes

There are no strangers here;

only friends you haven’t yet met.

~William Butler Yeats

Willie is in the upper echelon of their society

with a roof over his head and a beat-up van

that stays in the church parking lot much of the time.

When he isn’t in his van he’s in the church office

talking with the priest about the issues of life.

Willie can philosophize with the best of them,

keep the conversation deep and honest, open up

about his own struggle to reckon with his losses.

A former music professor fallen on hard times,

forsaken by his wife, he finds a home with us.

When he is discovered for his rich baritone voice

the music director offers him a job singing in the

choir. The white robe hides his ragamuffin garb

except for the shabby sneakers on his feet. But

none can see his grungy shoes hiding behind

the choir loft, though they can be spotted during

Eucharist as congregants file down the aisle

toward Willie kneeling before the broken body

and shed blood, should anyone be paying close

enough attention to such trivial or material detail.