Caught in the Pryer Storm

The hot night rain drenches me in sleep

opening a bow to prayer

amidst the lunatic birds swarming

in the dark heat.

Magnolias are split in dreams

heavy with bolts and tears,

flowing in the cascade

of cracked mirrors.

All is unmoored from my memory,

surviving on communion.

Dear Jesus am I not more profound

than thy mad swirl?

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