This man wants you to worship,
Through him, a merciful God. He’s dressed
For the part. You wouldn’t choose this outfit
For an ordinary day’s work.

I too am dressed for the occasion,
Though not, I grant, in ecclesiastical robes.
A picked-out shirt, a known-to-be favourite jacket,
A much-worn tie.

This was the priest who suggested
That on our census forms, under occupation,
We entered “Eucharist”. I thought, fat chance:
Make some worthwhile point.

The census numbers will not contract by one
To account for me. The jobs will be as they are.
Like him, I’m dressed for a journey:
We’re not going far.

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