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Sun Parlor
by
Craig Kirchner
The parlor got the
morning sun,
facing east and
the park,
I sat in front of
the piano,
Susan sat on the
ottoman in the corner,
in her green
quilted dress and bow flats,
waiting on the
Webers.
They would pull up
in
their ’56 grey
Buick.
It was a 3-mile
ride to Church,
usually quiet,
maybe some
polite kid quiz
stuff like
how is school?
At the end of the
Sunday School
hour,
we would seek out
the Webers,
get back in the
Buick,
and retrace Belair
Road to the park.
I didn’t know
their first names.
Did the church
pick them,
because they were
good
and willing
Lutherans,
who were on the
way?
Were my parents
thought of
as heathens?
This ritual
hypocrisy
was my intro to
religion.
The most spiritual
part
of childhood
Sabbaths
was the sun
radiating the parlor,
and my sister
sitting patiently,
politely,
adorably
in her Sunday best.
Craig
Kirchner thinks of poetry as hobo art,
loves storytelling and the aesthetics of the paper and pen. He has
had two poems nominated for the Pushcart, and has a
book of poetry, Roomful of Navels. After a writing hiatus he
was recently published in Decadent Review, Wild
Violet, Last Leaves, Literary
Heist, Ariel Chart, Cape Magazine, Flora Fiction, Young Ravens, Chiron Review,
Yellow Mama, Valiant Scribe and several dozen other journals.
Bernice Holtzman’s paintings and collages have appeared in shows at various
venues in Manhattan, including the Back Fence in Greenwich Village, the Producer’s
Club, the Black Door Gallery on W. 26th St., and one other place she
can’t remember, but it was in a basement, and she was well received. She
is the Assistant Art Director for Yellow Mama.
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