kentucky hill prayer
granny prayed tirelessly for hours on end,
while bakin biscuits and pickin blackberries
always worried, she’d leave out a name
an they’d surely be struck down
if she didn’t drop the dishes right then, gather us all up
to join hands an pray
papaw’s palm sat heavy in my right,
granny’s cold and slender, full up of ruby rings
linked in my left
everyone meant to mumble their prayers aloud
all at once
this part was always easiest if it was just us three,
without the added holdout of chuckles
against my brother and cousin,
as we squeeze each other’s hands, hard as we can,
tryin not to be the first to end our prayers
“Amen”, we’d have to say,
keepin our heads bowed down
as granny kept listin out every person she’d ever met
to be sure they’d not burn in hell
sometimes i’d try to keep up with the names,
see if i knew a Mary Ann Sue, an what relation, almost wantin to ask
at the end of the prayer
knowin the picture books would come out
an she’d be bound to call up somebody, i never did
i’m now prayin i had
5 thoughts on "kentucky hill prayer"
Leave a Reply
You must be logged in to post a comment.
The rich detail of this memory puts me in that kitchen prayer circle. Thank you!
It feels like the reader is holding hands with y’all!
the poem makes me want to start a prayer circle though I doubt I’d have a fraction of the numbers granny prayed for
the rhythm of your poem is wonderful, and emphasizes the drawing together and the holding back of the last line.
Agree with Shaun, I was at the table holding hands and “holdout of chuckles” with you, brother, and cousins.
Yes to: i’m now prayin i had