On The Way Nathan Brown
Dad’s retired and on his way
to pinch-hit in Tulsa
on an October Sunday morning.
He has a certain coffee stop
just before the turnpike,
a favorite form of meditation.
He pulls up to the window and
reaches for the football-shaped
rubber coin purse in his pocket.
that I remember playing with
when I was five, or so.
She leans out, “Mornin’.
You all dressed up,
on your way to church?”
“Well, actually, I’m on my way
to Tulsa to preach this morning.”
“Oh! So you a pastor.” “Yes.”
“Well…would you pray
for me right now? I got some
negative people and thoughts
in my life I needa get rid of.”
Dad says sure, then she asks
for his hand. He reaches up.
He prays. She squeeses.
And I imagine myself into
the car in line just behind him
seeing the white hand extended
from the cuff of a white shirt
clasped by the two beautiful
black hands at the end of a gray
uniform and wonder if the sight
alone would be enough to bow
my head in worship with them.
By Nathan Brown, Poet Laureat for Oklahoma, 2013-2014 Published in his book, Karma Crisis: New and Selected Poems, 2012, Mezcalita Press.
