9 lines, 6 beats per
"We have faith in you," they
prayed, heads bowed and eyes closed,
throwing their prayers high.
I thought of the classmate,
sleeping somewhere in a
hospital bed, alone.
Then I closed my eyes, and
prayed. "I have faith as well."
--
6 lines, 9 beats per
"We named her Faith," they explained, pointing
to the slash of orange fur, a cross
laid across her piercing eyes. She used
to walk me to the bus stop, until
we found her purring in a pool of
blood. "The bullet was fatal," she sighs.
---
A classmate last year was injured in a snowboarding accident- he fell on his head. Something about blood in his spinal fluid, broken ribs doing something or other... He shouldn't have survived, but he did. And he still snowboards!
I used to have a cat named Faith; she was gray with an orange cross on her face. Some church members found her lingering outside the church, pawing at the doors. My older sister found her under one of the chairs on our front porch, purring in a pool of blood. Somebody had shot her with a bb gun, point blank. It shattered some bones, that proceeded to lodge into vital organs.
