something scorched
the lifting steam a hymn
we would step into and becomepart of its plainsong rise up
it sang you don’t have to
walk through this worldon your knees
as the words stood up in me
which is why I’ve come to tell youwhere I have been and what I have seen
so you could look on me
and not be afraid
— Thomas Dooley, from “Pentecost,” published in Hyperallergic
