Poetry

Communion

When I walk across the room
And I see your shirt thrown
over my orderly books

I knew you cost me more than
I bargained for

emptying out my pocket at night
I noticed I may have just enough for tomorrow

Jesus had his bread and wine

but I have your smile
to distribute as I walk to the bus stop

thankful for the change
and the smile

I practice communion
with the folding of the newspaper
lying on the empty seat next to me

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