Bill Grace

Prayer Call

As night turns to gray dawn
I begin to see our lawn
That lawn, prosaic, bourgeois and a common sight
Is the green mask of beauty for deeper things we do not like
Where all would be lost if not for a candle's light
That calls our souls to prayer.

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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, February 22, 2005

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Comments about Prayer Call by Bill Grace

  • Poetry Hound (2/22/2005 7:45:00 AM)

    I like the image of a lawn being a mask for something else, even if you don't say what that something is. Those middle two lines really stand out. Bravo.

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