A Holyday in Zürich
A holyday in Zürich
can be known by the stigmata
of teenaged beer spilled
along sidewalks astride the papery
shells of old Ronald’s farmless edibles,
revealed as the sun rises
to meet only the ghosts
of suited creditors and racewalking Bahnhof-hoppers,
and the concrete solitude of a pilgrim—
oneself—dodging the traces
of yesterday’s throng, en route
to where, maybe, another pilgrim
has pointed her morning stride, all to say,
you are alone, and I am too,
so we may as well
be alone in this together.
“A Holyday in Zürich,” read by Andy Stager.
I believe she’s letting go
I believe it will be any day now
I believe before the trip to Italy
I believe we will touch down before nine
I believe the shuttle waits near door four
I believe it’s expected to rain all week
Can you believe all this food?
Can you believe she made her bed?
Can you believe her ugly Icelandic Christmas sweater?
I can’t believe the organist’s attitude
I don’t believe our voices require amplification
I can’t believe her pew is empty
Can you believe she never complained?
Can you believe her bed was made?
Can you believe this jello-pretzel salad?
I believe it was her North Dakota youth
I believe she rests peacefully
I believe she’ll soon rise in glory
I believe there’s a Chick-fil-A in Concourse B
I believe we are third for take-off
I believe it’s time I had a solid cry
“Credo,” read by Andy Stager.
Andy Stager, an Ohio native, has lived and written poetry in South Carolina, South Korea, and Switzerland. He recently completed his PhD in theology with Trinity College Bristol and Aberdeen University, and is pursuing a DMin in ‘The Sacred Art of Writing’ at Western Theological Seminary. He pastors Saint Patrick Presbyterian Church in Denver, where he lives with his wife and three sons. His poetry has appeared in Ekstasis and Fare Forward.
Photo Credit: “Good morning Zürich!” by Wayan Vota, Flickr.com.