Through Stained Glass

A Poem by Nicole Laszlo

Through stained glass

Peeked a dying orange sun

Dimly helping to light

This desolate church

Its beauty told in a simple way

Row by row of dark, hard-wood pews

Cut into thirds

By a crimson rug

Decorated in a silver trim

This carpet extended

From the doors-

To the stone altar

And on each side of each pew

Sat white marble stands

Riddled with multiple shades of grey

Each holding plain white candles

These candles extended

From the doors-

To the stone altar

It was on this evening

When I- by chance

Stumbled alone to this church

I would venture to this church

Every Sunday as a kid

Time and travels though

Had left me worn and weary

And my Sundays were spent elsewhere

But that night, as I said

It was there I stood

However, I realized that I wasn’t alone

For there he sat- next to the aisle

A skeleton-

Motionless in the seventh row from the altar

It wasn’t strange

It wasn’t odd

It wasn’t displeasing to the eye

He seemed to fit in there

Casually looking forward

Tinted orange on his right side by the setting sun

I didn’t want to be near him

Thought I felt no threat

I didn’t want him to notice me

Though I felt no fear

I didn’t even know why he was there, though

And I didn’t wish to stay

So I left

And the following Sunday, I returned

And the following Sunday, he remained

But no one seemed to notice him

They just sat and acted as they always did

So I said nothing

After this, I came every Sunday

And he was always there

Always in the same spot,

Seventh row from the front

Sitting directly next to the aisle

No one ever sat next to the aisle

Sometimes they sat directly next to him

Nevertheless, never where he sat

Not in any row

Including myself

He never seemed to leave

I waited, for hours, some days,

Just for him to leave

He didn’t

Week after week

He just sat there

So my discomfort grew

One day I looked at the woman in the Pew across from me

“Do you see that?”

I whispered, pointing to the skeleton

“See what?” She replied

Frowning, I pointed again

“The skeleton.”

She just looked at me, and I noticed her eyes were grey

She shook her head, and seemed uncomfortable

I closed my eyes, and tried to clear my head

The thought occurred

That perhaps I was going insane

“Does anyone see him?”

I said this louder, so that a few people could hear me

I pointed again to the skeleton

Who didn’t avert his steady gaze

Which looking back

I believe was on the altar

No one responded

They looked to where I was pointing

Then back at me

“There!” I spoke up this time

So everyone could hear

“In the seventh row, next to the aisle!”

“Someone must see him!”

For surely, some one had to see him

The man sitting next to him looked at me uncomfortably

I couldn’t see the color of his eyes

“See who?” He asked

And then he stood

And then I became close to hysteric

“The skeleton! No one sees the damned skeleton?”

Silence

The woman with grey eyes shifted

And then he started walking

Calmly

He stepped onto the red rug

With silver trim

Slowly and powerfully

He walked towards the stone altar

Passing by each lit candle

Causing them to flicker

When otherwise, they never waivered

I felt myself start to shake

As he walked on, he began to fade

With each step

He grew more dim

He stopped at the last pew

Now I knew his eyes were fixed on the stone altar

For I could see his face turned towards it

He stepped forward

As he stepped off of the rug

And approached the stone altar

He disappeared

And left me standing alone

Alone to realize-

That I was the only one in the church

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Coyote Poetry

A amazing tale of mystery and wonder. I like the location and the character. You create place of interest and made the reader question the mystery person.
"I felt myself start to shake
As he walked on, he began to fade
With each step
He grew more dim
He stopped at the last pew
Now I knew his eyes were fixed on the stone altar
For I could see his face turned towards it"
The above lines were worthwhile. Made the reader feel the loneliness and the final place. Thank you Nicole for sharing the excellent poetry.
Coyote