Pray for clouds to appear and deliver.
Pray they delay and do not funnel.
Pray that the river holds its own course
doesn’t share its banks with leveed land.
Pray the snowpack fills mountain passes
misses fleeing skiers, slides ice
into empty reservoirs below. Then pray
for the stranger across the street with her dog
any person you will never know—
the missing boy on the evening news
an actor stricken with Alzheimer’s.
So much more to pray for tonight—
that all bullet production ceases
granaries overflow their capacities
deserts pool with rainfall. Maybe
roadways should be next—pray
they stay open, that bridges and aircraft
defy gravity, that cars and trains
remain grounded on streets and rails.
My list is so long I must stop at etc.
before I fall asleep. But here,
put your hands together, just like this—
pretend you’re holding the earth.
–
Alan Perry is the author of Clerk of the Dead (Main Street Rag, 2020). His poems have appeared in Tahoma Literary Review, Valparaiso Poetry Review, Third Wednesday, and elsewhere. A Best of the Net nominee, he is a founder and Managing Editor Emeritus of RockPaperPoem. His new chapbook, The Heart of It (Kelsay Books), was just released.