Off Kilter

The ceramic last supper

slipped, tipped cockeyed over

the canned cranberry sauce.

The twelve and Jesus

hung high just beyond

our consciousness.

“We thank thee, O Lord,

and these our guests.”

Hands clasped together

I see Mom at one end

and Dad at the other,

and their disciples

fidgeted while our

last supper hung off kilter.

Thanks for your time and thoughts.

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