The Prayer

 

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In this ravaged forest

I am the hunter

Rousing the dead

Steadily, my stick is long and prodding 

Others join me sweeping the ground

Opening green pristine burial mounds

we work swiftly cracking the stones

Where the unclotted blood knows freedom

dead and dying we ride each rise and fall

cushioned beneath us

galloping the earth is learning

the names of the dead

and dismounting, ears to the soil

all of this clawing

my nails, piercing the white stoney skeleton 


they will not shred you the dying

they have eyes inside you

this century of dying

does not expire  

  

in the morning the waves

pounding, pounding

this the crying the crying

The crying the crying

the crying


I cannot will myself to die

the landscape forbids it denies it

here is the veiled pieta?

he holds him, two bodies in comma in silent staccato

his death dwelling where she rests

finally sighing

have you seen her this Madonna 

of death's blessings?

can you ring her text her

Provide her do you

Sleep while she weeps

Clawing the sky

Amen

 

The Prayer

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The Dead Have Birthdays

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Your Dreams Lay Here Scarlet