Poem | Stones at Late Evening

There is barely enough
light
to pray
much less
obey the instinct to feel
the drying texture
of the schizophrenic face
of those in windows
or by the water’s edge.

An Indian prophet
in a white dress
sits by the pool
looking at nothing

in particular
gratitude

The stones are quiet
to say
the less.

Published in the December 16, 2016 issue: 
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William Meyer lives in Beaumont, Texas.

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