Community of Saints
by Timothy Murphy
When I peek from my tiny mind
the world I see is trending worse.
Half of the men I see are blind,
the words I hear, some filthy curse
by which my neighbors are maligned.
How did the earth go so astray,
no safety found on any street
where hounds hold heroines at bay?
There is a carpet at my feet
where fasting, I can kneel and pray.