Chapel on the Porch Strangers gathered late afternoon on the porch under pines, overlooking a lake. A divorcee, one on the brink of, another happily married one whose job it was to marry, a nun once married one who never married. We were different. We were the same. Wine was poured, bread broken stories of great love, great suffering were passed. We placed the doses of wisdom on our tongues chewed, swallowed hope. I’m gluttonous. Pocket every crumb falling for the days that I’m starving. I look around, see the splendor in this unlikely mix. There are days when the world holds your hand looks you in the eye, nods and says, I see you. I am you.
Angela Hoffman lives in Wisconsin. Her poetry has appeared in Solitary Plover, Wisconsin Fellowship of Poets’ Museletter and Calendar, Agape Review, Verse-Virtual, Visual Verse, Your Daily Poem, and Writing In A Woman’s Voice. Her first chapbook (Resurrection Lily, Kelsay Books) is scheduled for release in 2022.
Amethyst Review 
Moving. Thank you.
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