They were black of course.
Saturday mid-morning; myself
just searching to round off
that poem on praise, adequately, so as not
to let down the poem up to there…

They were black of course.
Who else would hope to bring
the whi’ fo’ back to God? …
even the Muslims have given up on us…
they, twentyish, I guess; he in front,
she all eager friendly smile behind..

they shone with goodness; goodness
that shone beyond what they, what I, would say;
beyond the headline of the magazine
he showed me, smiling, asked me what I thought:
‘Are these the Last Days? ’…

I said, I’d pass on that;
wished them my good wishes:
wishes nondenominational, unspecified..
returned to the computer, now to find
the poem on praise, a hollow mockery…

and to the mind, there came that potent line:
‘Live each day as if thy last’…

They’re probably still knocking, down the streets,
gathering reactions mild and wild …
I’d just like it if they – all too late - could know that
for a moment, goodness met the eye of goodness,
yet found no time to praise in present words..

Michael Shepherd

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-the-bible-bashers-i-just-turned-away/