We stream into the meetinghouse
through two doors

like twin cords
in the same braid.

I love the men,
all of them

lined up like
God’s long finger.

The sun attends everything
equally: the wood, the bend

of her white muslin sleeve,
the outstretched arm of the apocalypse.

Take hold of my shoulder.
Shake me awake.

Damian Rogers published her most recent collection of poetry, Dear Leader, in 2015.

SIGN UP FOR OUR NEWSLETTER. Get the weekly roundup from The Walrus, a collection of our best stories, delivered to your inbox. Learn More »