Close to the Fire (Or Cracker Barrel Benediction)

by Sarah Eshleman

We asked for seats by the fire

Where we watch other diners—

bellies taut with meatloaf, potatoes, and

biscuits slicked with strawberry jam—

Pause for one last helping of comfort.

The fire licks the wood, snaps its teeth,

Serves heat to souls headed out into the cold.

A woman stops near the hearth,

Spreads her arms to embrace the warmth

like a blessing she’d waited all day to receive

In just the way I cup my palms,

Desperate to catch the blessing

Each close of Sabbath service

Before launching into the chill of another week—

The Lord make his face shine upon you,

And give you peace.

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Sarah Eshleman writes in the Cincinnati area. She has been published in Ekstasis, Ruminate, Counterclock, Borrowed Solace, and Mslexia.