How to Pray

Anne Pollard
1 min readJan 13, 2021

Kneel.

Lower that long white neck

Bow to the earth

You have eight minutes 46 seconds.

Shift ever so slightly as a phantom knife

slices the air

As the shadow of a bullet whistles past your ear.

Straighten that starched collar and

Square your broad, tanned shoulders.

Those stalwart Belgians which bore the weight of

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Anne Pollard

I write. I read. I raise children. I rattle the bushes. I stand on hillsides outside Florence and shout, "Beauty!"