African Voices Summer 2016 (Digital) | Page 4

Churches[1]
Once my roof housed
a century of music
I shone with stained glass
beautiful things pulled from fire
Father forgive me my collapse
heavy lies the head
wearing a crown of ashes
Thirteen churches
the fire a raucous song
Now I’m a casket of smoke
now my windows weep
My pews a row of blackened teeth
charred gospels a flock of ravens
They sent fire for a sin uncommitted
These men already dressed as ghosts
who burned me before
pleaded guilty with smiles
my cinders still in their teeth
A halo of caution tape
When the floods relinquished their grip
God said the fire next time
But their hands have left nothing
up to interpretation
Ashes to ashes
Dust to dust
© 2016 Julian Randall

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