At the Church

Lisa Fleck Dondiego
| poetry


Your cousins, a few friends
line up in the pew. Your brother—
absent. He stole from you,

lied that you locked
your cupboards to starve him,
tried to con five G for burial

when he wasn’t dead.
The priest doesn’t know you,
absolves you.

I take the cruets,
go through the motions
of Communion,

recall your dread
of Christ’s sacrifice, crying out
in the Garden of Gethsemane

take this cup away from me.
All your life, trying to push
your father’s bitter draught

away, so you wouldn’t
be scourged like him.

Lisa Fleck Dondiego’s work has appeared in The Sigh Press Literary Journal, The Westchester Review, The Writers Circle 2, and others, as well as in several anthologies. Her chapbook, A Sea Change, was published by Finishing Line Press in 2011. She is currently working on a collection of poems about the death of a loved one from alcoholism, and lives with her husband in Ossining, NY.