I stumbled into the sanctuary,
Held my head up, wary, wary.
I know everything I need to know.
I couldn’t see a priest or pastor.
Never have I sought a master,
But these pews contain something still I lack.
The setting sun through stained glass windows
Made me think of the various widows
In my life who wandered past my path.
Have I done what’s right and needed,
As I have for myself succeeded?
Maybe these pews have something yet I lack.
I stumbled out of the sanctuary,
Head held low, weary, weary.
About the Poet
Ethan McGuire grew up in the mystic Missouri Ozarks, but nine years ago, he moved to the Florida Panhandle, and life with his wife near the Gulf of Mexico has had a profound effect on him. By day, Ethan is a Healthcare IT professional, and by night, he is a writer and a member of the West Florida Literary Federation.Attachments area