A Variation on Prayer
Leaving the gray, bleak evening behind, we enter the massive gothic splendor of stone, stained glass, gilded walls and fluted columns.
Leaving the gray, bleak evening behind, we enter the massive gothic splendor of stone, stained glass, gilded walls and fluted columns.
Who are these black figures, hovering around my bed like the dementors on the Hogwart’s Express? Am I dying? But there’s no bright light. Every breath is a struggle.
“For now, through heaps of oceanic garbage, the canyon between their father and I has been traversed.”
“What you love most of all is the way the sleepover allows you to seamlessly slip into your best friend’s family.“
“Which one is the right foot?” I asked, confused. The CO said, “They don’t have rights and lefts.”
“They hurdled our tree branches, threading the streaking space of the air as you and I have done.“
“I opened my eyes to dad boots, your mouth silent as snowfall. Steady rhythmic steps carried us home.“
“I hadn’t known how brave you’d been—open-heart surgeries and cardiac arrests, all concealed from me and our sisters.“
“If I am a sailboat crossing the ocean, he is the wind; and if I climb a mountain, he is a flower in the field.“