Friday, July 28, 2017

OTI:one poem:7/28/17

Open To Interpretation

Prayer Beads

Oh, it's my duty, my mantra, you know,
Daily hour minute second prayers.
Everything us they so often show
Infusing us so many woes and cares.

You're okay?  Sure.  Sure?  I see your concern.
I've drifted off into my worry beads
These dreadlocks hanging from my brain I turn
These small voices pressing downwards their needs.

My dog has fleas.  There is a war overseas. 
Tomorrow has fees.  Are we forever...
Ouch!  My sensitive beads you laughing tease,
Smiling at my iterative fever.

Who can remember the prayer we nursed
Before in all these others we were versed?




No comments: