After the Last Supper


This poem first appeared in The Molehill Volume 4.

The dirt mingled
in the water.
Three years’ worth.

Even the traitor’s.
Even the denier’s.
(Already named at the table—
for there is no past,
or future
in one who is
older than time.)

Peter resisted.
Would I have also?

Said no
to my king bowed low,
towel in hand,
wiping the dust
of the earth he owns?

The foot-worn
mud and grime
of past,
and future
dissolve in

Jen Rose Yokel is a poet, freelance writer, and spiritual director. Her words have appeared at She Reads Truth, CCM Magazine, and other publications, and she released her first poetry collection Ruins & Kingdoms in 2015. Originally from Central Florida, she now makes her home in Fall River, Massachusetts with her husband Chris, where you can find her enjoying used bookstores and good coffee.

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