Monday, December 18, 2006

A Prayer and a Wake, for Jack

Robins on a frost-covered table

sip water from melting ice

and I see their red breasted life

in this gray-mist twilight

just after we buried a brother.

“Give us this day,” we said

with the priest, “our daily bread”

while birds found clear elixir.

Now I pour a scotch and drink

liquid coals to remind myself

flesh remains on Earth.

This is all I can imagine

and the pine tree’s fronds

and bobbing feathery doubles

reflected outside the glass.

C. Denise Low. Published 17 Dec. 2006 in the Kansas City Star (F10)