Without Priests or Robes

Without Priests or Robes
by
Julie Eger



I remember a time when

Mama moved the furniture

to give us more room

as Dick Rodgers, Fritz Willfarht

and the rest of the players

would come in on WLUK

TV Station out of Green Bay

at 10:00 on Sunday mornings

while other kids were sitting in cars,

mothers slicking back hair with spit,

straightening collars, and scolding them

to stand up straight as they walked to their pews.

Mama cranked the volume on the TV

and with hands together, chins up,

shoulders locked, right foot back,

back together back, counting

one-uh-two, one-uh-two,

we would polka all our cares away

and before Tuba Dan

put down his bouncing tuba,

without priests or robes,

without altars or smoke,

all my sins were forgiven.