I left my home
in the hands
of estranged friends

only to find it again
nearly two years later,
a weekend in Cleveland.


I made it to the door
with the last sleepy tendrils of sun
flaking from drooping eyes.

Communion is served
at 5:30 sharp by hands
adorned with hard work.

The elements are passed,
fire and glass,
'round a table with seats for 6.

It is then I realized...
in the half-light
it was decided.

I never left the pew.
My religion is still community.