sunday with nana
when I was a little girl she said
I sang in the children’s choir
and everybody loved us
we smiled and tried to imagine
how nana could ever have been
a little girl singing in church
like a magician she pulled psalms
out of her throat and lifted them
high into the glorious air
angels appeared playing flutes
and trumpets and approving the
perfection that was her voice
september two thousand thirteen
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