Church at Dawn

I long to sit in the cold church at dawn
While this bus coughs and crawls around the city I adore-
With an unrequited love- I am the very peak of anonymity.
And through solitude, there is nothing that I'd rather be.
But today I want to be back home,
The path through the graveyard snakes between leaning graves.
I think of the bones beneath my feet-
The rotting flesh that feeds the blossoming trees.
I think of this on the way back from church
My mother and father in their Sunday clothes.
We wave at the old lady at the end of my road
Known to us and everyone as 'nan',
A flower in her hat and a stick in her hand.
And though I no longer believe,
The desire to overwhelms me.