Prayer- After George Herbert

February 12, 2018

The dripping faucet;
a mouse that burrows into an abandoned
house; the readiness with which blood
spills; the declawed cat
scratching the armchair;

crocuses bowing their heads
under snow; a black stray dog slinking
through backstreets lapping from the gutter water
the Milky Way;

the trunk that grows through the fence;
the clothes in the closet longing for a body,
the empty mirror for a face;

To lie awake trying to remember a face
one has never seen;
the black widow dropping from the ceiling,
weaving without light, her web’s
elastic wait;

the moon-stained newborn
trying out her voice.

February 12, 2018