Childhood Rosary
U Uriah Hamilton
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It was a long day
in a cold rain
roaming desolately through
the grey city.
I was approaching strangers
like a wet stray dog
for any sign
or delicate word of kindness.
I was two days without sleep
and bound by chains
of reinforced tears.
I was scouring ancient books
for supernatural incantations,
searching for a guru's eyes
for any healing meditation.
Nothing from my past
was working,
I was unwelcome
on friendless streets.
I thought I'd make my way
to the tattoo parlor
looking for the blonde girl
who once had brief
but encouraging thoughts for me.
Somewhere along the line
my childhood rosary snapped
and bead for bead
every prayer slipped away.
I'm always contemplating
the enumerated codes
of isolation and misery,
the only kindling sources
that warm my heart.
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