In loving memory of Iva LaRue

As the Israelites traveled through the desert wilderness, the presence of God was manifest in a cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night.   Exodus 13:22

In the summer of 1982
God sat at a card table,
poodles at her ankles,
cocked cigarette in hand,
setting her nine cards 
in vast array.

The summer of '82 
was slow and hot and humid,
and we traveled through 
the days card by card,
pacing ourselves by
trumpeted proclamations
Let’s Make a Deal!
Wheeeeeel ooofff Fortune!
and the whispers of
Luke and Laura.

When the news ended,
when the last card played,
when the air was thick and stale,
and we were tired of each other,
I trudged away, smelling of smoke,
and entered my
quiet house.  If anyone
was there, they knew 
I had been with God.

Every morning, I’d return,
crossing the wasteland, 
my house to God’s,
to sit before the altar
of three channels
and eat toast to 
the happy banter of others
Good Morning, America.

The incense of tobacco,
bright and fragrant,
rose into the crisp
morning air, air 
cleansed by the
light of the moon.

Sometimes God thundered
about daughters-in-law.
Sometimes God quaked
about the silent phone line,
the boys who seldom called.
Sometimes God wept 
for the sins of the family,
and sometimes God spoke
in a still small voice,
It’s going to be ok, honey
Oh baby, I’m so very sorry

An ember by night,
the Cloud of Presence by day,
In the wandering wilderness
of that season,
God Was.