I learn it means thank you in modern Greek,

with the reciprocal meaning of gift
granted and received—

anovertone sneaks

in to imply exchange of grace

like these trees—

They stretch empty branches—

more like dancing wraiths in space

seen from the highway

behind the dividing yellow line,

beyond the guardrail…

each naked twig pliant—

receives the rising fog

like a shroud of the old year.

I can tell you this, show you the picture,

but that won’t play you the music

I hear, like an antique choir

singing about Kairos —that opportune

moment beyond any counting—

all the interwoven intricacy

in a psalm of praise—

Eucharisto.

Eucharisto.

KITTY JOSPE, MA French Literature, New York University; MFA Poetry, Pacific University, OR. She embraces the joy of working with language and helping others to become good readers of poems, people and life. Her teaching beyond the classroom includes being a docent at the local art museum, The Memorial Art Gallery, University of Rochester, NY and moderator of weekly poetry discussion groups at two branches of the Rochester Public Library system. Her work is in 5 books, published since 2009 and numerous journals and anthologies.