Wrung from the walleyed wait of the womb Marooned to a prayer from god’s grave side And all community of the duly good, An apple unpinned from its savior branch, 5 I fall as I fell, have fallen, will fall Each rainy inch in angst against gravity. Born moonblind to majesty and mystery And deaf to reverenced heaven’s sighs, Alone on the lovely ground crowded with brothers 10 And blitzed by a gracing despair, I rot Blood-ripe and rosy beyond my own reach. Against this windy time will I stand again Who fell to a world wrung dumb by pain? I inch each word in angered prayer to a leaf.
From the collection "Nobody Poems"
Written by Gregg Glory [Gregg G. Brown]
More information available on gregglory.com.