George Moore
Bread and Wine
The consecration a burning desire to put back time, re-gear it
toward another future one where the house does not burn
to the ground and the ground does not quiver in this destruction
and the seedlings do not sprout out of the forest fire out of the house
cracks and creases and the clock does not melt or tick or turn
its hands like needles of the giant Ponderosa
and the land returns to its unscarred self before the builders buried their knives
and the masons filled the rabbit hole and the ground was beautifully uneven
and there in the sacrament in the bread and the wine
the land is the table the house a moment in time
when sacrifice means nothing and the body sways in the wind
and the hour is born anew and we build and building
is the only good thing for our fallen table