A daughter’s prayer,
for a best friend,
a hurting soul, torn apart
staggered by the punches
the body blows, gut shots
wanting to join the fight
to step between the blasts
and her weary body
unable to intervene, to step between
at those moments, in the breach
waiting instead, for time,
for reflection, for discernment
in quiet moments
with her, with the creator
listening for the still, small voice
for the answers to these prayers
for one who means so much
loved without thought
cared for to the last
hurting still
July 30, 2006
February 3, 2007 22:12
All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 20,780+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.
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