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a prayer of thanks
by Charlie Morgantime is on a schedule; one for photos.
where it remains still for smiles.
and yellows to ocher as more time
catapillars behind like an inchworm.
a barbed wire existence follows me,
snagging on my alpaca sweaters of youth.
buttons just right. the collegeiate look.
i wonder what i did to stand-out to Him,
as Moses' mouthpiece Aaron ne'er spoke.
left me wondering did i pray right?
seems i was always asking for something.
at this date: my prayers are for thanks.
08/11/2011 Posted on 08/12/2011
Copyright © 2026 Charlie Morgan
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Joan Serratelli on 08/12/11 at 04:45 PM Charlie- as we age, our belief tend to get stronger; we know what the future is and whether we fear it or not; the end looms in the background. Prayers become stronger and we hioe we're heard. I think what you feel is a natural part of the aging process. Great write (as always) |
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