I kneel before my bed and pray like a little kid.
My closed eyes squeeze out the moonlight.
My warm words heat the room.
A perception of vast distance forms
beyond elbows propped upon the quilt—
yet a space intimate in its sense of immediacy—
filling, expanding beyond the walls,
the red blood vessels of my eyelids,
as ethereal light brightens in magnitude.
Then it ends. A neighbor’s car, headlights on,
completes its turn into their driveway
and the blinds return to their earthy tones.
copyright © 2018 Kenneth P. Gurney
