A Prayer in the Margin of this Rough Draft
A list of people
alongside this meandering scrawl
of a scroll.
I recite each of their names
in my mind:
Anna, Cable, Nate, Ben, Stephen,
a little louder than silent
giving breath to my hope.
The trees are nerves tonight
a touchy system spreading out
into marvelous shade.
Constant starlight
sheathing longing branches,
stretching farther out
but not far
enough.
The moon
never comments on this; just
reflects.
Each one of them
symbolized by a jumble of letters
just clear enough
I know it's them.
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