Bridget Gage-Dixon


This is my body which will be given up for you.

I went to the altar in eyelet and organza,
stood with my mouth slack and stared
at the coarse white hairs that rose from the priest's
weathered hands as he lay bland flesh on my tongue.

This is the cup of my blood.
The blood of the new and everlasting covenant.

I couldn't hold the chalice or taste the wine,
only the flow of spittle as it slipped over the sides of my tongue
dissolving that unleavened disc.

It will be shed for you and for all
So that sins may be forgiven.

But when I walked back down the aisle
to where my father stood
in his resurrected Easter suit,
he lifted my veil, kissed my cheek,

Do this in memory of me

and I drew in his breath, savoring the traces
of cigarettes and Tellamore Dew.

Bridget Gage-Dixon's work has appeared or is forthcoming in Poet Lore, Inkwell, U.S. 1 Worksheets, and Gargoyle as well as several others.  She received her MFA from Stonecoast/USM. She lives and teaches in central New Jersey.



Current Issue
Contributors' Notes

Email this poem Printer friendly page

A CLOSER LOOK: Dan Masterson

Brienne Katherine Adams

John Allman

Bruce Bennett

P.D. Bresnahan

Norma Chapman

Joanne Rocky Delaplaine

Carol Frith

Bridget Gage-Dixon

Sarah Estes Graham

John Grey

Gabe Heilig

Oritsegbemi Emmanuel Jakpa

Rod Jellema

Jennifer Juneau

Claire Keyes

Jacqueline Lapidus

Hiram Larew

Barbara F. Lefcowitz

Donal Mahoney

Laura Manuelidis

Nancy Meneely

Lisa Mullenneaux

Sherry O'Keefe

Scott Owens

Patric Pepper

Allan Peterson

Oliver Rice

Craig van Rooyen

Maggie Schwed

Janice D. Soderling

Paul Stevens

Jeanine Stevens

Garland Strother

Naomi Thiers

Ernie Wormwood

Bill Wunder















Last Updated: Feb 22, 2020 - 12:30:13 PM

Copyright 2005 - 2020 Cook Communication.