"Poor Girl's Praise," A Poetry Post

I woke up this morning.

Lord I thank you.

When I sat up,
I felt good.

Lord I thank you.

When I reached around my
neck to
rub my shoulders,
I felt no pain
because I
slept on
a pillow that
supports my
shoulder weight.

Lord I thank you.

When I stood I
felt rested because I
sleep in a bed that
holds me like a
queen
when I lay my
body down.

Lord I thank you.

When I walked into my
bathroom,
my feet were warm
because the
carpet greets me when I
put down my first step and my
pink cotton slippers
wrap my feet in
comfort
before I cross over onto the
cold morning tile.

Lord I thank you.

Lord I thank you because I have
slept on bare concrete floors
covered with cheap government tile and

used carpet pads
for my pillow and

slept many nights with
pain and

got up many mornings in the
cold and

had to tiptoe
across the floor in my
bare feet and

now a poor girl remembers that
every little thing
every little thing
every little moment is a moment for
praise
praise
praise.

Lord I thank you.
Lord I thank you.
Lord I thank you.

-T. D. James-Moss