THE POWER OF PRAYER
brown sock soles shining
he kneels and bows his silken
prayer rug the hush of him
This taxi rank worshipping
place the sycamore’s
embroidered bark it’s
shimmering lime canopy
THE HAND OF PRAYER
The cold has settled in and you have shucked
off your canopy a few last leaves curling
clinging There is nothing about you to catch
the eye now except where you have redrawn
yourself each bone of you etched the length of
the pavement limned under blue
© Lizz Murphy, 2021
