Lord God. I am small
and the wave is so high.
not even an inkblot left on the sky,
souvenir, should I be
should it swallow me
less than a wren
why should I
pretend otherwise
I am here
at your request
oh let me be
a thankful guest
let the silver glint
of my voice
sing your deliverance
at the feast.
mary angela douglas 27 january 2023
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