Sunday Calls

My father loved calling on Sundays

Visiting friends or family
he took his pleasure from polite
conversation

Sometimes we'd visit more than one home.
Short, surprise visits to all.
"A pop call," he (My Pop) would say.
Always laughter and warm comfort
of old, well oiled relationships,
memories of an earlier day

His, the art of conversing in a formal way
"How've you been?"
"What about Lucille?"
"We are busy with church and scouts."
"Little Billy is such a pill."

Why he loved calling was lost on me
a child, wanting to play outdoors
(I did like the cookies and tea)
Mostly I was bored

The connection he found
caring with someone -
if even in a formal way -
soothed mutual relations
and mended their hearts
torn by too much worldly sway
*
My father's King James bible
marked in his hand
goes with me on Sundays now

I've found new friends
among the old
and lonely ones -
caring if even in a formal way -
"how are you now?"
"do you hurt today?"

soothing hearts alone and lost
caring connections found
I hear their hearts
sing of love's long breath
as they slowly pass away