SACRAMENT

Layer of rock we thought
Impenetrable
Built up by that 
Book of living words

Ring of fire
Burned on your finger
And the shoes I cobbled 
Blistered you,

I hammered the nails in.

The flag of music trailed
After your singing voice
And I picked up its endless tail
To bundle under arm
And decorate with bows.

The newspaper burned 
In the tramps backyard
Damn tramps,
And ideas and words carried with the
Smoke into my room

Where I saw them, 
Smelt them, 
And deliberate,

Discarded them,

Wanting my own words
To share with you.

The waste basket nearby
Filled empty 
With fallen rock

Cut open like the earth turning sides in bed 
Too heavy to carry out
Myself.



stephanie l jordan-renz


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