Something Else I Didn’t Understand The old woman with the raggedy hair was waiting for me at the door of the church. I had the key. It was early, very cold. I said no, and no again. I can’t let you in. When I came out later to look for her she was sleeping against the wall, heaped up, and we were told, never try to wake them. They’re confused then, uncertain, as we all are, as in the afternoon once when I woke up from a nap and the sun was shining through the window. My eyes were blurry, out of focus, and for a moment the green and yellow leaves of the trees outside sparkled like facets of something else I didn’t understand.
Chris Anderson is a Catholic deacon in Corvallis, Oregon, and everything he writes comes out of his experiences as a deacon and out of his experiences of faith, and doubt. He is also an emeritus professor of English at Oregon State University. He has published a number of books, poetry and prose. Love Calls Us Here is forthcoming from Wildhouse Press.

How human, how puzzling and how enlightening, and yes, it had to be a sonnet! Thank you for yet another thought provoking poem. – Jane
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Those “facets
of something else [you] didn’t understand” is the true nature. Excellent
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