Prayer, Protest, Peace By Robert Vaughan

Prayer

I ride on a hymn and a song.

I fasten my seatbelt as the bumpy ride fills my nostrils with choppy air.

I talk to the moon. I’ve been talking to the moon for some time. Every single night, every hour. The moon says nothing back to me, but I continue talking to the moon.

Why will you never come?

I ponder the difference between a holiday and a holy day. I am another.

Your cheek under which flows your silent tears.

I can count them on one hand.

Protest

I forgot to turn on the oven. Then I turned it on, but forgot take it off broil. Then I forgot to turn the oven off.

The day does not lend itself to night.

My mind has flown. It’s gone from the everyday.

No one’s watching the oven!

Peace

All the details of my past are a swirling stream of dust. The sun illuminates my hand.

I’m fairly certain I placed my love message in a bottle, but I didn’t throw it far enough.

It didn’t reach the sea. I hope the sea rises to claim it.

© 2011 Robert Vaughan

Robert Vaughan’s plays have been produced in N.Y.C., L.A., S.F., and Milwaukee where he resides. He leads two writing roundtables for Redbird- Redoak Studio. His prose and poetry is published in over 125 literary journals such as Elimae, BlazeVOX, and A-Minor. He is a fiction editor at JMWW magazine, and Thunderclap! Press. Also hosts Flash Fiction Fridays for WUWM’s Lake Effect. His blog: http://rgv7735.wordpress.com

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