St. Anthony went to the mouth of the river by the sea, and
began calling the fish in God's name.
( Little Flowers of St. Francis )
Evening
genuflects,
While I kneel at the creek's edge
Watching bluegill rise to tossed petals
Wanting to write words, right as rain
Smooth as skipped stones -
And release them when the aim
And balance are right.
Fish rising to the rings forever
As they must have done
To the poor man of Padua's blessing
While gathering prayers in the dark. |
