LONE CHURCH ON A HILLSIDE
Wayne Russell
The old wood sided church
bearing Celtic cross aloft,
wind battered;
on lone hillside standing,
for one hundred years
or more.
A sickly pale yellow hue,
paint peeling off
and no one cares,
this “bride of Christ”
seems to have been abandon
long ago.
God must be in a state of lamentation,
peering down upon her
so alone;
weeping gentle in the breeze.
Solemn edge of muddy earth
mere feet from her doorstep
crumbles away,
a bit more each day…
as gravity beckons her down.
