I can't sing anymore, either

We were no different

From all other families

We read the Bible

And prayed together

Every night before

We went to bed

Prayers by rote

After a while

Except for dad’s

The self-styled

Prayer warrior

And some of yours

They were doozies

Like the ones you prayed

Where you asked God

To take you on

To be with him

I never could figure

Those ones out

You and dad

Never explained

Such mysteries

But he would say amen

As if you had said

God bless little Michael

Or God give us

A little more money

Next month

If it be in thy will

Take you on?

What does that mean?

And now

Here we are

All these years later

Brenda is twice as old

As you were then

And you have

Outlived dad by

Ten years

Ten long years

I liked lying

Between you and dad

When I was little

Feeling the cold

Skin above your elbow

Between my fingers

This was before those prayers

Before our big move

Before dad got hit

In the face that night

On his way to Bible school

By the real estate agent

I am coming to visit

In a few days

They say you are

Going away soon

I won’t pray for you

And I won’t ask you

To pray either

I did not understand

Those prayers back then

I still don’t get prayer

I won’t console you

And you need not me

But I would like to

Hear that song you wrote

The one about

You up with the birds

Looking down on the treetops

But if you can’t sing anymore

That’s okay

I can’t either