An Apathetic Prayer

A sonnet

Photo by Billy Huynh on Unsplash

An apathetic prayer

The sky is always easiest to hate without stars,
the moon also absent, playing its prolonged game
of peek-a-boo. You could look up contemptuously
and cast the most venomous of curses,
where that black sky seems to almost welcome it,
swallowing your anger the way a tar pit might
swallow a car with a dead body in its trunk.