Original Sin

When first they ushered me into that hall
To take my place on a cheap fold-out seat,
My eyes clamped shut, and so missed all
The conjured stillness of the school: young feet
Unshuffled, heads dropped down in donned respect,
And teachers, too — attendant, cramped in rows
Of less observant hush. A time to reflect

On whispers, echoed hymns, light-cold windows.
In truth, I pitied most the ones on-stage:
for though I felt secure behind my teen-
Devout, dismissive, atheistic rage,
I couldn’t quite pretend I hadn’t seen
the way they thumbed the book — unsure of it,
The prayer, the weary Morning, all. Please sit.