The boy sat outside the
shattered church window
Wearing a wrinkled
black suit
With his look of resignation
His fourth rock had broken a tall section of stained glass
It lay in the middle of the narthex, on
A lake of black glass
The boy sat in the dark
Listening to the security alarm
waiting for consequences
For his sacrilege
His mind was full of long ago fishing trips
With a recently deceased father
Quiet predawn rides to the country
A single boat launched into the water
Two fishing poles filled with magic lures and hope
A far off speed boat breaking the silence
too distant to make a ripple, on
A lake of black glass