New Communion Rail

fine altar rail
of hand turned oak
she could neither take
corn nor sell goods from
within the parish's precinct

several ploughs
two bee hives and
one mill plus one salt
pan sat in disuse

her hands
were as rough
as flint rubble inside
walls suited for striking
a match upon it is not clear
what happened to the church at
the east window of four cinquefoiled
lights and the fiery south wall with the
priest's door

between the
choir stalls her
spirit bellows rest
at the sound of the
organ pumping revival
air

her ghost
tethered horse
genuflect at the new
communion rail hitching
post where rushes are strewn
in juncus aromaticus and maple
boughs pray for a switch

remember him
in 18th century clerical
costume his tailor's card
expired not in accordance
taken from the psalm, "The
Lord delighteth not in any man's
legs"

Copyright Ms. Sage Sweetwater, firebrand lesbian novelist