Three Poems by Wendell BerryrnPolitical CorrectionrnWith respect to our sins, we hoped for a whilernThat our friends at least would be noncommittal.rnNow we insist on a public frialrnRigged for acquittal.rnBurley Coulter’s Song For Kate Helen BranchrnA National ReligionrnChristianity without sacrifice,rnResurrection without crucifixion:rnBelieve! —and leave poor charity to the poor.rnHeaven unending, exclusive, and nice,rnIs open for immediate occupation —rnYe need not watch with Him one hour.rnThe rugs were rolled back to the wall.rnThe band in place, the lamps all lit.rnWe talked and laughed a little bitrnAnd then obeyed the caller’s call —rnLight-footed, happy, half entranced—rnTo balance, swing, and promenade.rnDo you remember how we dancedrnAnd how the fiddler played?rnAbout midnight we left the crowdrnAnd wandered out to take a sfroll.rnWe heard the treefrogs and the owl;rnNearby the creek was running loud.rnThe good dark held us as we chancedrnThe joy we two together made,rnRemembering how we’d whirled and prancedrnAnd how the fiddler played.rnThat night is many years agornAnd gone, and still I see you clear,rnClear as the lamplight in your hair.rnThe old time comes around me now,rnAnd I remember how you glancedrnAt me, and how we stepped and swayed.rnI can’t forget the way we danced.rnThe way the fiddler played.rnAPRIL 1998/23rnrnrn