God is the only one in the pews
When I say God, I’m talking about the dust on everything:
the way it’s fallen from heaven and settled here,
on the pews that once held our grandmothers, on everything.
I’m talking about the delicate coating that signals an end,
the infinite specks catching light with no interruption,
the earthly particulate settling down and starting again.
They say it’s skin and hair and bugs and soil all stirred up.
They say it’s human, say it’s earth,
say it isn’t empty at all.
L.A. Sklba is a poet and journalist writing and working from Colorado. You can read more of her work in EcoTheo Review and Voidspace.