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A man or a woman, afraid with any sudden
chance of fire or of man’s death is driven
to cry or to pray after help. Yea, how?

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Surely, not in many words, nor yet
in one word of two syllables. And therefore
he cryeth a little word: as “fire” or “out!”

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For in ghostliness all is one, height and deepness,
And rather it pierceth my “ears” than any
long psalter unmindfully mumbled in the teeth.

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Then feel sin a lump, thou wottest never what,
but only thyself. And cry then ghostly
ever on one: “a Sin, sin, sin! Out, out, out!”

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Copyright © 2011 Philip Fried All rights reserved
from Early / Late: New & Selected Poems
Salmon Poetry
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission