Poetry: Prayer before Dawn by Molly Spencer

Prayer Before Dawn by Molly Spencer

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Lord of the spun globe,
of roofline silhouette, pale wash
of coming sun,

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this thinning hour is the only threshold
I’ll ever need.

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The greying black.
The black, greying.

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Lord, let me die just before dawn.

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Let my fading be twinned
with the night’s fading,
barely-seen gradients
of light.

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Let me knock on your door
in the half-dawn. Let my hands
be knotted with years,
many troubles. Let my hands
be all you see

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when you rush, worried,
to the door,
too early for visitors, and see

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the weak, round glow
of my lantern. Then,

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if you have a face, Lord,
show it.

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Put it in my light.

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