the leaves are falling

on Madonna Drive

Mission Hill’s

in mist

and I can’t see the cross

at the top

today

the old school house is locked

looks like it stopped teaching

long before this green was planted

long before these trees reached

forty feet

but the picture’s pretty and

I take a deep breath of it all

because the old saints in black

are calling, tapping me on the shoulder

see, boy, see?

smell, boy, smell

feel, boy, feel

crunchy orange leaves

scurry, then fly

on Madonna Drive

Mission Hill’s

been kissed

and I can see the cross

anyway