published in 2003, appeared in Seattle School of Theology and Ministry Review

praying with one eye open.

Ned Hayes

(after Mark Strand)

through dark windows,
the clouds move like

one thinks a bird
might, old ghost

caught by light,
scattered feathers

on this morning, Pentecost,
tremors of brass
burst the air

yet my eyes
are closed, I am

as the Christ
who sleeps on crosses
everywhere, that

dead thing now
and ever.

does some flame still
lip this shore,

all the mingled mass
of tongues

and what wind unscented
by decay
licks through this space?

what fires flit still
over us

sleeping and waking
enthralled by a divine demon
unto grace?


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