“An Engine against the Almighty”
—George Herbert, Prayer (1)

We wrestle, gentle
Jehovah, gentle
beast, or rather ring
bearer, keeper of dirt
and sleet under
streetlights. A kingdom,
weightless, entrusted
to the white palms
of a child. A garden
with a certain desert
distance, an angel
interference: this
late-night duel. I know
the sound of wind
as well as I know
the remnant of your
footprint. Or is that
the mark of my
knees in the dirt?