Natural Prayers
A new washed morning air
combs my gray muzzle.
I was dog tired, but now
a warm sunlight
unwinds tendons and
taut nerves.
Sunday has its own natural prayers,
Shabbat heals wounds.
we had never thought to mend.
Elsewhere there is darkness and death,
yet in this one golden hour
I stand with all men of goodwill,
old men who know how to pray
on behalf of the hopeful young.
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