A Prayer in July
And even after nightfall,
the heat did not fade.
Hunger welled up within us,
threatening to consume.
The cry of a coyote
sending chills down
our sweat-covered spines.
No door, and at
the edge of a forest.
Waning moon and dim stars,
covered by a straw roof.
But nothing about that
night struck me more than
the sheer depth of the darkness
and the fear.
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“No door, and at
the edge of a forest.” Powerful lines!