Her Prayer
by Jim Wilkerson

she prayed each day
that she would die

beneath each smile
or visit from family
she wore that prayer
like an old sweater

pulled it down tight

she clung to it
in all weather
on sour days
and sunny days
wondering
and wandering

sometimes
I tricked her mind and
she forgot her dream
latched onto mine
for a moment

then noticed a cold breeze
creeping through her memories
and the sweater was stretched
once again

that was when
my life swept by
like a blur
but hers–
the days crept by slowly



 

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