Our Father Who Art In Richmond

It’s hard to be reasonable
In the rain
In the dark
In the middle of November
When one no call no show can make you
feel six years old again
I know my daddy loves me
It’s a mantra
He doesn’t get a song like Jesus
But I suppose they’re out there holding hands
Dad and God
Ever present and never there
Putting my back against a wall
Over and over
What are the limits of faith?
Trust?
Love?
I am too old now to have vast stores of any of them too aware of reality to just believe
So now it’s me, Daddy and God
Sitting on the same bus stop bench
Not speaking