The brothers attending St. Leonard’s
Would chase us away from their pond;
Either in the summer while we were skinny-dipping,
Or, during the winter as we ice-skated upon.
We could see the pickup truck coming from the seminary,
Bouncing across the cow fields;
With time enough to gather our stuff,
And, successfully, their wrath we would yield.
Never were they able to catch us,
Although, sometimes our paths they might cross
While we walked the trails in the nearby woods,
Always pretending that we were then lost.
They asked if we might know the culprits,
We lied saying we were unawares,
Feeling a little bit guilty
Due to their connections with the Big Guy upstairs.
I walked there to church services on Sundays,
Or the guitar masses on Saturday night;
Never once during a confession,
Did I ever come clean to make this wrong right.
Some of the brothers attending St. Leonard’s,
Were barely much older than I;
I never understood this choice that they made,
Even though many times I did try.
I hope they continued with their calling,
Becoming Priests who are now doing good;
I would apologize for our constant trespassing,
Today, if only I could.