Musing in the Morniing

‘I am fár remóved from your síght’ * I sáid in my alárm.
Yet you héard the vóice of my pléa * when I críed for hélp.

I hear, this morning,
in these lines
a faithfulness,
a trust, and trustworthiness
a nostalgia for better times
it seems ungracious to quibble
did you hear

I’m convicted by ingratitude
is this privilege, or a kind of privation
where do I go

help me hear the cry of my neighbor—
my own call
which we make to you
of a morning