Thursday, April 2, 2015

April 2nd Poem - Supper


They smell of fish and sunlight.
Peter always laughs the loudest,
quiet John is a favorite of the Lord.

The evening is heavy with the perfume
of desert flowers and the scarred moon,
a perfect circle.

Clearing his throat,
the nervous disciple
rises from the table,
careful not to spill the wine.

from Singing Magic by Barbara Alfaro
© Barbara Alfaro

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