DUP Program, July 24, 1975, North Ward Chapel, Panguitch, Utah
While those lined faces in their bonnets sang,
outside, the blue Utah sky burned,
and summer-green locust leaves glistened
and quivered through the small glass squares
of curved, white-framed windows,
as if through tears.
Then Dorothy Davis helped Mrs. Leslie
settle the concertina on her knee.
She worked “Glory, Glory, Hallelujah!”
out of the buttons and breathing pleats,
and out of eighty-six years of stiffening bones
and crinkling skin, and out of three widowhoods.
Wet lines moved down her fragile cheeks,
and when Dorothy took the concertina
and put it on the table, Mrs. Leslie looked up
and her hands stayed open in the air.
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