communion

[just mercedes]

Hi Anne. I think you can prune a lot of words out of your poem, trim it down quite a lot. I don't  understand what the cyclists are doing there. I don't think the third and fourth strophe need be there.
I'm getting a layer of present environment, a layer of religious beliefs, and a layer of the body being the beautiful house, a sort of double metaphor. I really think you can make this clearer.

I enjoyed the trip out on the water - thank you for posting this.



COMMUNION

The boat I’m in now, rocks My boat rocks
gently in the middle of Little Traverse Bay.
With the midday sun in my eyes, In midday sun
red kayaks on the shore remind me of
roses in planter boxes
on the church porch earlier.

After swallowing the bread dipped in wine,
I had knelt at the altar and prayed.Aren't you already kneeling at the altar when you take communion?
Tears came for no clear reason.
I had hoped they washed away I'm not happy with the two 'had's here - I know you want to keep the tense right, but they make the strophe read clumsily to me. And why not 'had washed away' if you're sticking with them?
my morning sin of eating You lose me a bit here - I can't imagine crying because I'd eaten a donut before communion. Tears washing away sin is probably an important image but it sounds cliched.
one vacation donut.

I put on my sunglasses
and distinguish the far-off sightseer bikers
from the diehard cyclists,this sounds more like binoculars
the Fudgies with Santa tummies
from the ones with chiseled waists and thighs.repeats what the last  two lines said
A glance down at my own tummy too wordy - take me there more easily

in a one-piece swimsuit, takes me back
twenty-some years, to two pregnancies. these lines are prose narrative, no poetic devices
As my body plumped up
I had viewed it as beautiful.  Now, there's that 'had' again!
I try to accept what age has done
to the shape of my hips and waist.

A wave laps into the boat
drenching a home decorating magazine
as if the water overheard the minister’s lesson
and was reiterating it. This is prose with line breaks.
A gorgeous house on the outside
can still hold mold on the inside.  Is that a quote? What are you doing in the middle of the bay in a small boat with a home decorating magazine?


I understand the metaphor

but am confused if narcissism or low self-esteem

made me believe the sermon was written about myself. Very prosey.
The next wave rocks the boat,
slaps me in the face as if to say, ask?
“What’s your problem?”

The wine-dipped bread was a reminder
of greatest sacrifice and loss
and to be grateful for so many miracles. Clunky construction here
I look outward at the deep-rooted shoreline trees,
fish weaving through transparency, sunlight in the blue,
the kingdom, the power, the glory. I like that rhyme back to 'shoreline'