Sunday Service

The rooster wears a bishop’s miter

While four hens trail after him

Clucking and nodding their heads

In approval of his morning’s sermon.

The black and white mutt in the yard

Has found religion too

Barking at a strange cat up in a tree

As if it were the devil himself.

Descartes, I hear, did his best philosophizing

By lazing in bed past noon.

Not me! I’m on my way to the dump,

Waving to neighbors going to church.