I’ve had a few but then again, too many to mention

I’m coming to see you next week.
Yes, I know I said that last week
but I really mean it this week.

I have regrets in advance.
I will sit in a church,

a church I despise.
Not a specific church,
I despise them all. Or do I
merely object to them?
Am I jealous of them?
Jealous of a building?
Will I care? No because

as I sit there,
I will stare,
probably down.
At my shoes?
Embarrassed by grief.
Embarrassed by faith.

I have regrets in advance.
I regret this in advance.

I’ll come and see you when it’s cold,
when you’re in a position to convince me you’re not so old.
When I won’t regret in advance.

Regrets in advance or regrets not at all?
Perhaps I’m hiding behind alliteration.
I am.
I’m not regretting, I’m rehearsing.
My mind insists on –

no,
there’s no getting round it.

I rehearse sitting in that church.
I even enjoy it.

I do it rather often, getting in the practise. Rehearsing
for future rehearsals.
You will be the second of many.

Possibly the third
but she made it into heaven
before I decided it doesn’t exist.

by D. Diedrich

Copyright August 2006