Sherry Chandler

J. Stephen Rhodes

Steve Rhodes has led a varied and eventful life as a seeker for ways to do good in the world. I know him mainly as an intelligent and articulate writer and critic, a man whose passion for the art of writing is inspiring.

French Bread

The night I took your shoe off
under the table at La Chanson,
under the artichoke
and basket of bread, you smiled
and I knew we could do, as Paul says,
all things together good.
But throw it on the water now,
the French bread you buttered
and moaned about.
Just go.

Your foot under the table,
like the tip of a cat’s tail,
belied your Mary Poppins smirk.
Somewhere between
your purse-lipped grin and shoe
I got lost. Go down, Moses,
let it go.

To watch you roll your eyes
while eating the baguette
was sacrament enough.
I kiss it goodbye in God’s mercy,
the bread, the wine, your rising up
and sitting down, and the way
you said stop, often meaning
go.

Last night at another bistro,
your head flown to a different city,
your eyes glared past my shoulder
while you framed words like,
It never would have, and
You yourself have said. All the time
your shoes snug on your feet,
your hands nimbly buttered bread,
daughter of Jerusalem, your cheeks
comely with ornaments,
just go.

— J. Stephen Rhodes, originally published in Shenandoah

Reproduced by permission of the author.

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