Communion

when I was young

the circle was so big,

so inviting,

so warm.

the people all smiled,

and sang

and believed.

the bread was sweet.

the wine was rich and unknown.

I held my mother’s hand

and prayed in belief.

now

the circle is empty

and clinical.

the people frown,

mouths shut,

and they falter.

I take the bread

and dip it in the wine,

its tasteless on my tongue.

and I pray to believe.