A Certain Slant of Light (Light, #1)

by Laura Whitcomb

peeping torn,

Peeping Tom?

Bless this food to our good and your will.

Is that right?

Always he pointed the stranger the To the bridge he had built on his ancestors’ land.

Poor writing, editing, or just a bad poem?

Cathy picked up the Bible and sat in the chair it had occupied. When I hesitated, she patted the brown book.

This feels ominous...