Sunday, 10 July 2011

Lord's Prayer

New rain descends like kingdom come

onto my old head:

split-splat-sploshing cold

carving out senselessness, a hollow, into my brain, a concave heart

pulling no-thing-in to hammer there – that void

rising up softly, forgiving everyone – including my old self, most of all

making sure I find the next step; new dark, alive, with morning.

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