After the fact
I know you by the space
you leave empty.
I draw lines in the air
where the roof used to be.
I wait for you, Lord,
like a mailbox for a letter.
The grass still wonders
how the ground got there.
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© 2023 The Christian Century.
After the fact
I know you by the space
you leave empty.
I draw lines in the air
where the roof used to be.
I wait for you, Lord,
like a mailbox for a letter.
The grass still wonders
how the ground got there.
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