Noon Prayer

This entry is part 60 of 93 in the series Morning Porch Poems: Summer 2011


May our burdens lighten, may the day
lift shadows from the ground like leaves
caught in a summer wind, before they

lengthen; may the strip of cheap
colored foil twirling in the branches
bring wings and lost bird voices; may the ant

shouldering a crumb of bread find his way
by dusk; may a hand reaching for something to dip
into a cup of coffee come across the half-moon

floating like an abandoned biscuit in the sky.


In response to an entry from the Morning Porch.

Series Navigation← TurningAcompañamiento →

4 Replies to “Noon Prayer”

  1. …may a hand reaching for something to dip/into a cup of coffee come across the half-moon/floating like an abandoned biscuit in the sky.


    Wish this upon that wasted waif
    reaching for a cob of corn on a cold
    night among the lean-to shelters.

    Pray for this as hard as you can
    before the scorching desert claims
    his little body back among debris

    of sticks, stones and bones dimly lit
    by fluttering fire from stoked ember,
    frying the flies gleaned from holes

    hiding them in the crannies of boxes
    left by a howling army of thieves
    absconding with the relief supply.

    A border guard sips freshly brewed
    coffee from his tin cup, cocks his
    rifle at its ready-to-fire 45-degree,

    sneers at the child’s shaking body
    in the arms of a tremblingly bony
    hand of its mother begging for tea

    or a tad of coffee, a balm for a cold
    night at the gobi, where a half-moon
    floats like a half-eaten biscuit in the sky.

    —Albert B. Casuga

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.