Sabbath, 1966, 1984
Those motel memories return.
The colored comic pages opened first
And water bubbling in an urn
And powdered coffee slaking my communion thirst.
Montana windswept plains outside.
Stark desolation’s existential rites within.
But earth I’ve trekked since then rolls wide:
And prayer, not newsprint, now assuages sin.
Copyright © Steve Eng | Year Posted 2009
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