Gregory Liffick

Amen

The elder
of the
inner city
church
prays on
his knees,
still numb
from years
of manual
labor.
The ache
in his
bones
adds
weight
to his pleas.
He raises
a finger
like David
on the
Sistine
ceiling,
hoping
to dial
the Almighty's
number.

{Poem by Gregory Liffick}