Our Father (Re-Dedications)

(This is an old one, written in college for Modern Poetry with Dr. Potter, from my project imitating Adrienne Rich.)


Our Father (Re-Dedications)

I know you are praying this prayer early, before leaving your home
of the half-exhausted kitchen light and the brightening window
in the stupor of a neighborhood clinging to its quiet
just after dawn. I know you are praying this prayer
against the ache of arthritic knees far from your birthplace
forgetting the gray cold in the warmth of candles burned
under the dark stained glass in memory of those like you.
I know you are praying this prayer
in your daughter’s empty room where she cut herself and cried
where her rebellion hangs in shredded words on the wall
and your shoulders bear your tension
but you will not leave her bed yet. I know you are praying this prayer
as the car grinds into second gear and before turning down the street
toward the oldest love
you almost wish you could leave.
I know you are praying this prayer in the noise
of the blunted radio where bodiless chords whirl and crash
while you slump on the sofa in the argument’s eye.
I know you are praying this prayer in the checkout line
of the tired cashier’s routine questions, of your sudden spurt of tears.
I know you are praying this prayer by hospital light
in the arrested anguish of the living who are forgotten,
who forget themselves, in their wait for the dying to die. I know
you are praying this prayer through your abandoned faith, the heavy
need expanding the old words beyond clear meaning yet you still pray
because even the faintest pulse of hope is precious.
I know you are praying this prayer as you pace beside the bed
asking questions, an anxious dog at your hip, the phone in your hands
because he has not come home and you wonder why.
I know you are praying this prayer which you have never tried before
disbelieving some words while others pull you on
and I wonder which words grasp your arms.
I know you are praying this prayer waiting for something, torn between acceptance and dread
opening your eyes to the day you cannot deny.
I know you are praying this prayer because there is nothing left to pray,
there where you hold together, unanswered as you are.