Sunday, July 3, 2011


for Stephen

I know I am the only soul
Sitting in this coffee shop
With exactly these concerns.
My physiognomy
Cannot be gainsaid
(Indeed, whose can?)
Yet by it I am still betrayed.
Oh, for small respite from
Unsought-for sincerity
And the feelings on my sleeve.

It matters not to me, my friend,
When all is said and done,
That you do not know I was
Here, thinking such
Thoughts on your behalf,
Seven A.M. on a Sunday.
I thought them all the same.
And even though I did not pray,
God listened.


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