Passover, a poem by Debra Elramey at Spillwords.com
James Coleman

Passover

Passover

written by: Debra Elramey

 

Summers, Aunt Kathleen traveled south
to Bible Belt Land with Uncle Jim in effort
to save our souls from the burning hell
we born-again Baptists believed in.

Mother said the couple had once been
kissing cousins, married in the Christian
faith. A shame, she said – a crying shame
what they became: Jehovah’s Witnesses

of all things. Going door to door. Refusing
war, politics, blood transfusions, and even
Christmas. Icons, idols, images, the Easter
bunny, and hunts for colored eggs on the

bright green grass of a church lawn.
At sixteen, the age of rebellion, I visit
a Kingdom Hall – much to my mother’s
chagrin – and sit with the chosen at a

Passover celebration. Refrain from tasting
the wine when it’s passed around, they warn.
In silence I wait out eternity while the chalice,
forbidden as sin, goes from hand to hand

unsipped as poison. Here I listen
to the sound of a funeral dirge in the
background and miss my mother, and even
the tasteless Styrofoam wafer they serve to

church members with the thimbleful
of Welch’s that no more quenches our
thirst than the sourball melting on my
tongue along with the sermon.

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