By Patrick Carrington
Searching for Things to Worship
Sorting through fluttering debris
of thick boyhood days, tangle of jungle
browned with our absence,
I remember how you cupped
water at Cedar Creek,
your hands a chalice. And flowers
you planted near the bank
to make it your church,
somewhere to sit in the greening
comfort of a private prayer.
A place one might see God
and not be surprised.
“Winner of the Codhill Poetry Chapbook Prize for 2006, Patrick Carrington’s Thirst reads like a novena, a plea for understanding and mercy.”
—Pauline Uchmanowicz, Final Judge