Prayer Poem by Carol Ann Duffy

Prayer



Some days, although we cannot pray, a prayer
utters itself. So, a woman will lift
her head from the sieve of her hands and stare
at the minims sung by a tree, a sudden gift.

Some nights, although we are faithless, the truth
enters our hearts, that small familiar pain;
then a man will stand stock-still, hearing his youth
in the distant Latin chanting of a train.

Pray for us now. Grade 1 piano scales
console the lodger looking out across
a Midlands town. Then dusk, and someone calls
a child's name as though they named their loss.

Darkness outside. Inside, the radio's prayer -
Rockall. Malin. Dogger. Finisterre.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Morgan Michaels 16 October 2018

Mfffft. Top, heh? Don't make me laugh. Go, girl.

0 0 Reply
Michael Morgan 11 December 2017

I didn't know she was Scottish. 'Don't think she's under appreciated.

2 1 Reply
TopShagger 16 October 2018

You clearly don't have a clue what you are talking about. Go back to reading Biff, Chip, and Kipper books.

0 0 Reply
BEST POEMS
BEST POETS
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Close
Error Success