A 'Prayer' Poem by James McLain

My prayer, that no one hears
as i walk through the blowing snow
and up each step,
they pause to let me by.
Chafed my wrists, your lips
i see,
each face looks on concerned.
One ask them why.
My love for her, each call, each tear,
i feel,
by all around, i see them arm in arm.
The levers pulled.
My head,
rolls down the wooden ramp,
and muddies her clean feet.
i stood alone before the bench,
without a name.


Amen

s.t.