FREE VERSE Poem: Eucharist, by Matthew King

I would try to maneuver myself so I could focus
on the horizontal sliver of sky.
– Barry Lopez

I bought a
one-dollar
copy of
Arctic Dreams
and carried it
to the truck,
cradled in
both hands.
Turning south,
homes melted
to open fields,
rain-soaked
beneath a
slice of
horizon.
Voices of
Oregon Public
Radio rose through
the cab, prolific
and award-
winning author
Barry Lopez
died yesterday
in Eugene. My
mind lit upon
an autumn
evening, small
circle gathered
’round Mr.
Lopez, frail
then, we spoke
long enough
to give thanks
for his work,
his definition
of prayer,
continuous
and respectful
attendance to
the presence of
the divine. In his
grasp, my palm
felt worn and
clean. Maneuvering
toward the edge,
I held both
hands open, ready
to receive
a sliver
of sky, blessed
body, broken
and
given.

Author: poetryfest

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