No one to place the potted liliesin a semicircle, fragranttrumpets raisedaround the pulpit. The piano’s teeth delicatelystill; guitars lean their long necksinto resting stands.

Soren Kierkegaard once said Martin Luther might as well have married a “wooden plank” Katherine, Kette, hidden in herring barrels, driven into town to hunt

Charlotte Elliot No one wants to come just as they are to the Lord. Only children, who go just as they are to anything –

I bask beneath this eye, sun roving our marriage bed, sheets bunched together like gathered wheat. Your side empty and cool now, already you work

Ruth and Boaz Dine Grapes, sweet and cool, ornament the table. Blue-veined cheeses on wooden slats, rosemary and garlic. Bread with gold-toasted crust, a soft-melt