It Could’a …

I know I mentioned Ted on the Facebook link, but it's not really about Ted, or the church mouse or the organ.  More like one of those private moments you have on a Sunday morning.


It Could’a …

From over there I heard a… note?
  … a sumpin’,

It could’a been the microphone amp,
  pickin’ up AM talk radio again,
  even though no radio’s around

It could’a been the church mouse,
  who leaves sunflower shells behind the hall radiator,
  no one knows where he gets them

It could’a been the cross wind draft,
  howlin’ encore notes through the organ pipes,
It could’a been Angels in the up above,
  wingin’ in clouds, askin’, "Who? Who?"
It could’a been the horned owl, on the pinnacle cross
  atop the west wall keystone, at the roof peak,
Like the Angels the owl ain’t visible in sunshine

It could’a been the ghost of gone Ted Albin, parish albino,
  had diabetes so bad he was blind,
I once offered him a hymnal,
  "You know, I’m blind!"
  "I know, I just wanted to help…"

It could’a been that note, you know,
  the one that comes when everyone’s singin’ that hymn,
  the note that no one sings, but everyone together makes

It could’a been that thing the Unitarians say I imagined,
  I mean, it could’a …