When words vaporize, speech freezes
and muscles atrophy in the hollow chest,
prayers are hard to extract. Then I step
into the chamber of pain, kneel down,
surrender like heap of clothes a washerman
piles to wring. In that dark stillness
I stoke the coal, it glows like amber beads.
Soon a vapour-like dawn breathes out
from the neck of the heaving volcano.
November Poem A day: Write a just beneath ______ poem