Sunday Morning
Hymns unsung, prayers unsaid, I sat by the window and prayed for forgiveness one more time; one more time I begged. Holding the cup of coffee in my hand, I hoped the warmth would fill me where your words had left me cold, but I knew nothing could do that-- fire can burn for hours and be unfelt. Hymns unsung, prayers unsaid, I lay down on the empty bed, pulling the blanket across my cheek, turning from the window, from the sky and the sun, praying for some rest. Mary Kendall Mary Kendall lives in Chapel Hill, North Carolina. Her current work and publications can be found on her writing blog, A Poet in Time (www.apoetintime.com). She is the author of a chapbook, Erasing the Doubt (2015) and co-author of A Giving Garden (2009).
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February 2023
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