The boy sat outside the shattered church window
Wearing a wrinkled black suit
With his look of resignation

His fourth rock had broken a tall section of stained glass
It lay in the middle of the narthex, on


A lake of black glass

The boy sat in the dark
Listening to the security alarm
waiting for consequences
For his sacrilege

His mind was full of long ago fishing trips
With a recently deceased father

Quiet predawn rides to the country
A single boat launched into the water
Two fishing poles filled with magic lures and hope

A far off speed boat breaking the silence
too distant to make a ripple, on



A lake of black glass