Lynn Domina

Today, I reconnected with Lynn Domina, a poet and English professor. She and I met several years ago at an Earlham School of Religion intensive, courses that cram a semester's worth of work into two weeks to accommodate working people. I believe we met in Interfaith Dialogue, but neither of us can remember exactly. In any case, for me it was instant simpatico, so I am delighted we are back in communication.

Below is one of Lynn's poem where she reviews other poets. Here is a link to her blog:
http://lynndomina.com/.

FEEDING THE HUNGRY,
GIVING DRINK TO THOSE WHO THIRST

...I need not feel grief, I can eat grief...
--Sara Suleri, Meatless Days

The table is prepared:
the burgundy as robust as blood
coursing through a torso, the crusty bread
uncut and hot, the honey, the butter.

In this gust of time, our lives
seem nearly perfect.
Against the butter knife, the bread board, our touch
is brief and premediated. Honey floats on my tongue,
a last still point of assurance
before our cascade of grief.

My body hazy with wine, I lean back
into my misbelief that life is
everlasting. We receive the night as a third body
arrived to eat and drink. We've forgotten
how bodies transfuse themselves
into night, first an ordinary
flake of skin, an unmissed eylash,
then an entire birthmark or scar
twisted among the roots
of a field, soaked up into a tassel of wheat,
kneaded into a loaf
which multiplies as we leave ourselves
at this irresistible edge of hunger,
this brink of thirst.