Oh Lord,
This morning is not so beautiful
as some Iāve seen sober,
though Iāve seen few enough sober.
But things could be worse, I suspect.
I couldāve āwoke up dead,ā
as they say. Iām not dead.
Iām in my truck by a highway,
with bottles around my feet
that cough like fallen chimes
when I reach for the one
wedged in behind the brake.
Forgive me, I pray,
my head pinned beneath the wheel,
I fear Iāve been too grateful,
too long, for the night.
Morning Office
May 1, 2015