Five Praying, Overheard
by Jeanine Walker
They spoke for thirty minutes, maybe more.
Five voices rose and fell, an insect drowned.
To them the sound was words.
Their heads bowed (I saw this from the ground).
Five, they each sat with both hands clasped,
Hands two dogs that ache to fight
But rest first, slow in each other’s sure teeth.
One woman’s lips, glazed, fell on her raised thumb.
On the ground I knelt slowly down
(I was careful not to make a noise).
I touched the doorframe slightly with my palm
And watched a man, his eyes half-poised,
Whisper in between the beats of sound.
Another man stood tall
With hands raised, palms turned toward the sky.
I felt small, a mouse or dog,
Didn’t want to make a stir or scratch,
Or have one catch my eye. I sat still
And watched them pray, close enough
To hear their voices rise, though their voices,
Words to them, were to me just sound.
Did they pray to make lips move,
Murmur each with each? I didn’t know--
I only saw—my body on the ground.
Five voices rose and fell, an insect drowned.
To them the sound was words.
Their heads bowed (I saw this from the ground).
Five, they each sat with both hands clasped,
Hands two dogs that ache to fight
But rest first, slow in each other’s sure teeth.
One woman’s lips, glazed, fell on her raised thumb.
On the ground I knelt slowly down
(I was careful not to make a noise).
I touched the doorframe slightly with my palm
And watched a man, his eyes half-poised,
Whisper in between the beats of sound.
Another man stood tall
With hands raised, palms turned toward the sky.
I felt small, a mouse or dog,
Didn’t want to make a stir or scratch,
Or have one catch my eye. I sat still
And watched them pray, close enough
To hear their voices rise, though their voices,
Words to them, were to me just sound.
Did they pray to make lips move,
Murmur each with each? I didn’t know--
I only saw—my body on the ground.
Jeanine Walker, a recipient of fellowships from Artist Trust and the Jack Straw Cultural Center, has recent work published in New Ohio Review, Prairie Schooner, Third Coast, and elsewhere. She also has a full-length collection, The Two of Them Might Outlast Me, which is forthcoming from Groundhog Poetry Press. She teaches poetry to students of all ages in Seattle and online.