Faith Hope & Fiction

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The Serrated Edge of Time

Two Poems by Tom Lagasse

Ordinary Time

Sunday morning brims with potential.  Free of obligation

we congregate at the dining room table, more or less,

around 8. Well after sunrise but before the suburban 

summer chores motorize the neighborhood into a factory.

Between adjusting our coffee’s flavor by the teaspoon

and sharing articles from the Times, we confess

our sins of omission, admit our failures of character,

and seek love despite our imperfections.

A touch of the hand, a broken smile, a stray tear

gently wiped from the cheek – we offer one another

contemporaneous sermons, culled from our limited 

wisdom, with the surety of footnotes, will help 

walk us towards resurrection.

In exchange for forgiveness, we make promises and offer

declarations.  Before the day drifts to dusk we will

have denied ourselves three times.



In the dark hours of morning

Houselights, like stars illuminate

The constellation called neighborhood.

Dream clouds are severed by

the serrated edge of time.

The uniformity covers night’s nakedness.


The day’s orbit wakens the unseen hand

Of gravity as it pulls

The body to life to ruin to dust.


In evening’s quiet beneath the soft 

Glow of candlelight a mother

Cradles her child, offers her breast and hums

A lullaby. Her voice rises towards


Dream child dream.

Tom’s poetry has appeared in Silver Birch Press Prime Movers Series, Freshwater Literary Review, Word Mill Magazine, The Monterey Poetry Review, Wine Drunk Sidewalk, Plum Tree Tavern, and Wax Poetry & Art, along with a half dozen anthologies. He lives in Bristol, Connecticut.

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