At the Altar

When I stand at the altar it is easy to love.
Consecrating, elevating,
Tearing the bread
Then a pause.
For you.
Given for you.

Sometimes averted eyes,
Others a bold smile.
A hand wrinkled with age
A little palm.

A crumb falls to the floor
And taste
The flour and water binding
At the altar

Where it is easy to love.


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