Upstairs my children sleeping
in silence wrung from night hours,
the lamplight a cloak, I pray each name,
earnest and fearful, I pray for wars,
their endings and beginnings.

I can ask what I ask
He will give what He gives.

My neighbor dies of cancer, a gunman
in a synagogue; the trees turn colors slowly
this year, we pay all our bills on time.

A note in the planner next to a chore,
an appointment, prayer becomes both
and neither, pray, pray that life
changes and stays the same, pick it over
like fruit at market, hold the bruises up to God. 

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