Sacred Stories

An afternoon beer in the showerThe written prayers of a Serbian bishop Eating Mexican food alone at the market Chopsticks and noodles A prayer beneath a canopy of trees Contemplating a woman’s lips Contemplating her kiss Waking to the rain on your window Writing a poem for a black widow These are the sacramental acts For the simple and holy essence of your life.

My Grandpa guarded the sacred places from whites. He had a badge shaped like an arrowhead. There was a line across the road that stopped trucks. Cars couldn't get there, because the road was too rough. We only stayed in June, July and August because winter guarded the sacred sites the rest of the time. If someone didn't want to listen to my frail old Grandpa, when he told them they couldn't enter, then he let them pass. H...