Plain Talk

years ago when people still smoked and the milkman delivered milk, although that was soon to end, i sat at a maple table and listened to folk songs, read scripture, and wrote longhand stories that ended up in a three-ring loose leaf binder that earned a place on a shelf with more three ring binders and remained there for years until i cleaned out all my old writings and decided that they were ready to be dismissed as irrelevant or at least bearing no relevance to the now of that time--

years ago when people argued about Vietnam i sat at a maple table and drank tea from a mug made by hand and read psalms with two women who quoted scripture without ever looking down , who spoke to Jesus every day, who gave money to missionaries in countries whose names i hardly knew, who supported translators who learned languages well enough to translate the bible into languages few people still spoke or read--

years ago i sat at a maple table and prayed aloud with women...
 i put my knees to the ground with these women
we simply spoke aloud
had a conversation, made requests,
gave thanks for prayers not yet answered

i miss the women
who pray aloud
 who talk to God