Writing Poetry In A Walmart Parking Lot Poem by Bill Grace

The issue does not seem to be dinner,
perhaps my daughter will know
where we should go to eat.

Mom is at a board meeting
trying to keep our little church
from self destruction.

This temple
holds the truth
of the power of stuff.
Words will never touch it
even the Gospels
calling us to Christ
are almost mute
before its power
and another
unseemly truth,
besides the cross,
that this planet holds.