Pity the Pentecostal Children

by J. Campbell

 

Pity the Pentecostal children, their light
the unblinking eye of an angry God,
their playground hovering above a patient hell.

Pity the Pentecostal children, their joy
delimited to the Sunday they wore sneakers,
when something they loved was not profane.

Pity the Pentecostal children. Their rapture,
redefined, keeps them sleepless.

 

© 2005 J. Campbell

J. Campbell bats: left; throws: right. His poems have appeared in various lit journals. He was born in Jasper, Alabama. He lives in Nashville.