Nevertheless, the rain continued.
In dark doorways and under loading docks
men slept with cardboard and cold.
I said, “My heart is full with praising
your justice.” Still, the sniper drew in
a long terrible breath—or so I understand.
I said I was lonely for my old body
and my body became older still.
I said suffering had become too friendly
among us and that everyone had begun
to look like everyone else.
I said the various prophets were not much
listened to and that He should try some
other tack, that I had malign fears.
I said consequence was immeasurable.
I said, “Dear God, if you remember
me, remember us.”
The Image archive is supported in part by an award from the National Endowment for the Arts.