Steve J. Moore

I See the Moon

In Writing on August 21, 2008 at 9:01 am

At a Red Light Where No One Waits

Even after years of church,
I see the prayers
I have not prayed,
not the ones to come
later on,
but rather those meditations
of my heart
that I did not speak
with closed dark eyes
hands folded out of habit.

I see them in a crosswalk
not walked across
and at a red light
where no one waits.

I see them in tea leaves
steeped and sipped
but not Seen.

They live in the wood body
of a guitar in my closet
whose diaphragm waits taut
for breath so it may sing again.

They live in O and N
on a damp window pane,
where lips were near
and love is vain.

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  1. I cut the last stanza because I thought it was weak. I meant to do it before I submitted it for publication, but the editor decided to keep it so I let it be.

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