The rabbi tears flatbread apart,
generously offering me half-
over and above his full,
full plate.
Crumbs fall wasted
between
our silverware.
I fight the urge
to sweep them
into my pocket.
Hoarding can't preserve
this moment's scarcity.
Instead,
I take and eat - in
remembrance for
later - when deep
yearns for deeper.
Communion.
8 comments:
Nicely written, Kathleen, the last two lines of stanza 3 especially (almost want the poem to end there).
You are here! You are here! Missed you, friend.
This poem, I love all the pieces and bits of it.
(psst, it's me, A Simple Country Girl)
Thank you Maureen, I am learning how to peel, so this is timely. I see it now.
momento moment
oooh.. yes. You are here!
I love this too. BEautifully written. The ending is a perfect morsel of a momentous moment.
Kathleen! You take us to the Throne of Grace! thank you!
Wow, Kathleen. I love it. Thank you for sharing this!
your words bring sustenance ...
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