Wednesday, June 29, 2011

The Last Supper

Jesus once died-

but then rose
through the mists of night
from the confines
of his dark tomb.

No such destiny awaits
those left on earth though-
And as the thin horizon of time paces closer,
I realize that for others-
mortality is gradually
taking the shape of small,
shadowy figures
in the distance.

each Easter dinner
has seemed a bit smaller,
as we all move slightly
to fill empty spaces
beginning to grow
between one another-
as silently-
whole people have begun to fade.

a chair will be removed from the table
to hold up the magazines
in the corner-
but replaced
with a worn and brittle
child's high-chair.
Once used by my father-
and my sister-
and me.

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