My sweat,
sharp in my nostrils,
and the dusk of
grandma's perfume.

Around me,
hands uplifted,
palms reverent.
   Voices, believing.

In front of me,
that red-ribboned straw hat
   nodding, nodding.
      Alleluia!
it says.

Outside, a car horn
through thick green heat
and a waft of summer
through the window.

The pastor's voice, rising-
      Alleluia!
says the hat again. And
      Glory to God!

My eyes rising,
stopping at the cracked ceiling,
where fat flies stumble
stupid with the heat
against the naked bulbs.

     -Diana Guillermo 1-99