from Ghost Blueprints

“Lord, give a little.” ~ D. Bonta


The fisherman pointed
toward the channel

where the water surged
blind as they slept

beneath roofs
flimsy with fronds—

And then he walked
the length of shore

pointing out cornerstones
of torn foundations,

beds, mirrors,
vanities, suitcases

swiveled toward
the ocean’s inky mouth.


In response to Via Negativa: Winter prayer.

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