This time, I have left my body behind me, crying
In its dark thorns.
Still,
There are good things in this world.
It is dusk.
It is the good darkness
Of women's hands that touch loaves.
The spirit of a tree begins to move.
I touch leaves.
I close my eyes and think of water.

Added: Feb 20 2003 | Viewed: 2536 times | Comments (0)

Poet: James Wright
Poem: Trying To Pray

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