How
Great Thou Art
Squirrels run the fence, scour the yard,
take to the trees when you slip outside
to endure yet another harangue
from the tangle of overhead wires,
picking up right where you left off
this morning, righteous of heart,
tail a sword, certainty your shield,
God’s own agent framed in this window
scattering my gnawing doubts,
chattering, to the highest branches.
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