Holy Wafer
       

When my parents felt I was
too old to play with guns,
they bought me a dictionary
for a birthday present.
It never seemed like mine,
because everyone in the house used it.

Father said I should be
delighted with Webster's,
because words are like bullets
you can shoot people with.
But since I stuttered, they
were always exploding
inside my mouth.

But some nights just before
I would fall asleep, my words
seemed like a holy wafer
softening on my tongue
before I received it into my body.

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Copyright © 2019 Hal Sirowitz All rights reserved
from The Manhattan Review
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission