Lauds by Michelle Castleberry
Judge's Choice, 2018 Poetry Contest
As
my headlights wash the ditch dead
fawn
she swells her praise Selah
As
the box of voices ahead of me begins its laments Lord Bless
As
now my brother checks in
at dialysis for the washing of
the blood
As
marbled as an inner shell the skin in
the crook of his arm
You open
As
a mule that speaks his vein says I am here Lord this bleeding is to heal
As
much as possible, Lord the fawn collapses
births herself more gone
As
the sun is higher now Lord, you see us all my prayers stoppered
As
I pass the fawn
holding my breath the way
my brother does
As
the needle says open then at once all three of us exhale
As
You count our hairs Lord, every
one mounted or lost
As
careful as that You gather
them all even the ones pulled
out
As
we curse your name the wind of your
sighs stirs hair and dust
As
even now Bubba
offers his worship thrice weekly bled and blessed
As
now You take our leavings to form
Another beast that can pray to You
return to poetry home