
Pop at Church Door
A Cycle Clip & the Queen
Here is a photo of Pop;
custodian at his local church –
after an earthquake, something
like forty years ago, rubble spread
down the front steps. But
there he was hearth brush and shovel
about to sweep the spoil into a bin.
The family still talk about the day
the Queen attended service here
and at the bottom of these very steps spent
a moment or two speaking with our Pop.
This photo, taken just after the earthquake,
is how best we remember him.
That cycle clip holding his trousers:
(and what you cannot see, the string,
never a belt, around his waist holding
up those trousers) yes, that clip always just
above his right ankle: that, and the call
of a magnificent AMEN at the end of every
prayer, every hymn: the congregation
well remembered, and took his lead.
The many Sundays he was here is what
comes to me as I take my place in choir
so many years after he has passed away.
I doubt he would have worn the cycle
clip around the right trouser leg of his
very best suit, nor the length of string
at his waist, the day he met the Queen.
Benita Kape © 17.4.2018
Our prompt for the day (optional as always) follows Gowrishankar’s suggestion that we write a poem re-telling a family anecdote that has stuck with you over time. It could be the story of the time your Uncle Louis caught a home run ball, the time your Cousin May accidentally brought home a coyote and gave it a bath, thinking it was a stray dog, or something darker (or even sillier).