prayerful

a constellation of hopping hillocksjetting round with budsunveiled a prayer—

like an ineffable effusion of fir trees

the scent of a holy breathsown among the hours

each murmuring at the moonthrough honeycombed branchesof leaf-locked lightscaught in a glance

or washed whisps pallid andpeeled—the river in scratches

through her reflectionpaled by the night clouds,glossed in the final horizon ray

a special fragment knit by aspiring lips.

---

Atalie Young ’05 is an English and American Literature and Language concentrator in Quincy House.