Sunday Graces

Church bell rang out
10 a.m. on the dot
With panted breath
She sprinted up the steps
Content with being fashionably late
Sliding in the ornate wooden door
Just before diving into the first available pew
Predictably three rows from the back
In front of the one that wobbles when you move
Yes, she tells herself every week
"This is the Sunday when we'll be on time!"
Perhaps, being on time isn't her destiny
There's a lesson to be learned
It takes more dedication to be a few minutes late
Than it does to show up early to gossip.