Gratitude
She could tell it like it is
Bleak and hard and solid
A stone in the goat's stomach
Mold at the back of the broken stove
A powerless light switch during an endless night
She could cry
Dank and salty and gutwrenching
Jesus weeping
Ash cloth
Bent knees
She could Pray
Raising her hands upon her head
Praising God for all she was worth
All He was worth
She could say thank you
And maybe it all wouldn't seem so bad anymore
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