(Jordan Graff/Unsplash)

Swiveling in our Sabbath-rest,

we are impressed

by the slow,

winkless kindness that glows

slightly when we still.

No thrill,

no sudden

unrelated frill, no madman

trumpet-blast.

One silver cast

of calm,

bracing us with the flavorless balm

of god.

It’s odd.

The only brightness,

it took this long to notice.

Magda Andrews-Hoke lives in Philadelphia. She studied theology and the arts at the University of St. Andrews and was a 2019 recipient of the Frederick Mortimer Clapp Fellowship for Poetry.

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Published in the December 2021 issue: View Contents
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