Monday, September 19, 2022

Prayer for the Excommunicated by Lauren Scharhag

somewhere outside Osceola 
prairie lightning coronas grain silos 
quicksilver violet 
air so humid raindrops 
vaporize as soon as they touch 
febrile ground igniting 
silt and cornrow  
shaggy hillocks of buffalo 
stand as one with big bluestem
diners selling bison burgers 
by the quarter pound 
livestock trucks thundering past 
flash of horn 
tails dangling listless out the slats 
the damp give of fields beneath hooves
a distant memory 
rising moon a blood stain 
fading as it climbs to rust 
to burnished copper
we count wayside shrines
with white crosses and plastic flowers
the excommunicated gathering
in the false light of all-night 
gas stations where we purchase
lottery ticket devotionals and partake
of roller grill hot dogs and machine
dispensed coffee like every day is 
the last supper and where every 
bathroom mirror reveals a ghost 
looking back.





Lauren Scharhag is the author of fourteen books, including Requiem for a Robot Dog (Cajun Mutt Press) and Languages, First and Last (Cyberwit Press). Her work has appeared in over 100 literary venues around the world. Recent honors include the Seamus Burns Creative Writing Prize, two Best of the Net nominations, and acceptance into the 2021 Antarctic Poetry Exhibition. She lives in Kansas City, MO. To learn more about her work, visit: www.laurenscharhag.blogspot.com




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