My Sunday suit had stiff new pants
And shoes that always shined too much.
The collar scratched. The sleeves felt wrong.
The whole thing made me watch my hands.
Church clothes ask a lot of you.
Sit straight.
Walk right.
Keep still.
Do not tear this.
Do not stain that.
Do not become the boy
who slides down a dirt bank
after service
and comes home looking honest.
Still, when I saw myself in the mirror
all combed and buttoned up,
I half liked it.
Not the suit.
The idea
that a person might be made better
for a little while
by trying to look it.