Two Cheese Enchiladas

Two Cheese Enchiladas

(“And while they still disbelieved for joy and were marveling, he said to them, ‘Have you anything here to eat?’” Luke 24:41)

So much depends on the weather (I hate
to admit that.) Too much depends on the
barometric pressure. I would have walked miles
to meet you but, forgive me, some days are like
graves my body digs to disguise the scenic route.

Did I disappoint you? I wanted to show up.
No. I wanted you to show up.
Sometimes I’m buried so deep I probably did not
hear you knocking. Or other times I can’t face meeting
another face that sees my pain and does not cry. My
apologies.
I am not strong. People lie about that. I just don’t wave
my doubt loudly in the sky. When I do hoist it on the flagpole
it is half-mast, not nearly as agonizing as I let on.
And here I go again, running letters together like they
mean something fascinating. All I’m saying is
I need something more than old songs on the radio.

Days like these, mangled up between joy and disbelief,
I would surely answer the door if you showed up with
two cheese enchiladas and a beer.