After Confirmation

Katie McHugh

 

My grandmother mailed me a gift

                                                                     Gold-faced book of prayers

Pages pale as my own skin

                                                                      Letters dark as birth marks

But what they spelled

                                                                       I did not know

Not because I could not read

                                                                       But because I could not spare the time

For the God who lived in my desk drawer

                                                                       Without Moses to part the dust

That proud and modest Amen

                                                                       Reserved ‘til my closing hour

Poured in the barest whisper

                                                                       And wrinkled hands reached forth

Towards a kingdom that was here

                                                                       That was now

That in truth

                                                                       Had been in my grasp all along