Prayer At Family Dinner

Interlocked finger-shell cracks open

To sky on forehead,

Yolk pooling in palms

And down, down the wrist.

I hold a quivering sun,

Life and generous sustenance and

I am unworthy of its divine graces

So I lift it up, in offering—

No, return—

Hands washed in wine and biting salt

While I peek (one eye, through lashes)

To see if anyone does the same.