Two Poems by Phil Flott


















starry sky, image by Vahid Kanani, on Pixabay



Breeze Blowing Freely

He freely rustles

a gentle wind through me,

soothing as the fall,

refreshing as the new spring.

His name—

God’s breath.


*


Dad, Praying

I remember the night:

I found Dad in his darkened bedroom,

kneeling at the side of the bed,

arms slung on top the covers,

his khakis the only bright thing

in the sudden burst of light

from me opening the door,

his face buried on the bed,

rosary wrapped around his hands.

Dad didn’t hear me open the door.

Heart racing, I backed out slow.

Noiseless, I closed the door.

Upstairs with soft tread.

Climbed onto my bed

and knelt.

At the high window,

all the stars

in the western sky

lit up the night.



____________________________




Phil Flott is a retired Catholic priest.

His work has recently appeared in

Time of Singing, Mulberry Literary,

Academy of the Heart and Mind,

Sangam, and others.


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