#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream

why not a prayer, I ask

of sky, let blue now reach

her eyes, the anonymous mother

her street-wise daughter - whose story

I sat next to under last night's church

a basement, its cheerless

ceiling's low lit florescent hum

we were reading a book of useless

hopeful words, such waste

I'm learning relief this morning

under bright light, asking simply

may the daughter she'll never stop

tracking desire the misery of not

wanting less than sky

clear

morning

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