Overnight, melting snow gave way to waves of daffodils
smothering the hill near the Protestant church.
But churches hung in our peripheral vision,
an annoyance, a reminder of what we rejected.
The public library was our church, the holy source where
we plunked down the ten-dollar deposit, carried home
projector and cans of classic films spooled onto reels.
On a white sheet tacked on our living room wall we gazed
at sepia images of the Little Tramp sauntering down the street
swinging his cane, smiling shyly at the girl of his dreams.
Scott Joplin rags hummed on our stereo, background sound.
We stretched out on the rug, throw pillows under our heads.
Too tired from the workday, too stoned to make love,
like orphaned siblings, a family unto ourselves, an island.
Lynne Viti is the author of two poetry chapbooks, Baltimore Girls (2017) and The Glamorganshire Bible (2018), both from Finishing Line Press, and a micro chapbook, Punting (Origami Poems Project, 2017). She blogs at stillinschool.