Two young ministers—a white-robed man and woman—
stood preaching behind a folding card table—on
which sat one microphone and one amplifier.
No one leaned outside screen-doors or sat on porches—
no flock of people anywhere. I was walking
from Lee Street, having gotten coke and candy corn
at the Handy Pantry. The preachers were preaching
to someone—Brin leaned against a hatch-back, grinning,
hands behind his waist. Faith Church revival of one
in their front yard. They preached for a while, then they
asked if he would come closer and he said “no.” They
asked if they could come to where he was and he said,
“Things are fine like they are.” They didn’t speak to me.