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After Church (a poem for my swim pod)

December 25, 2017


The morning is cold
and the fog lies low
the headlands pink
from the sun’s first light


After diving deep
into devotion (destiny)
“Great Mother
Dear Father”
Swaddled in salt
and sand
and a solitary sweetness
and forgiven
We emerge

All in awe
We clumsily dress
Numb fingers
Sticky butts
Pulling up pants
Hats, socks, scarves
the low drum of

Someone passes around a bite of something,
Perhaps a piece of almost-still-warm toast

with peanut butter and honey
(This is my body...)
And Nenad

or Swimdaddy pass a flask
(This is my blood...)

We stand close
Soaking in fire
and freedom
A genuflection
Our fellowship

Then we ascend
Our fierce legs taking us
... strong strides
Each with our “pack”
Rising once again from heaven
To another day on earth

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