Country Prayers: Di MaioresHoly are my mother’s country 45s; holy is the dust of ages caught within their grooves. ![]() Holy, Mr. Haggard’s holy voice, the way the air beyond the open face of his glittering guitar glitters, too— holy is the way it glitters, too. ![]() Holy are the Carters, Jim Ed Brown— holy is their god and sorrow, their hard and ugly holler. ![]() Holy, oh holy, is lonely, low Hank Williams; holy is the lonely angel he’s become. ![]() And holy am I! How holy I am here as though destined to be here and be here holy. ![]() Holy how I listen now and slip into this holy heavy sadness of my mother’s holy country songs. ![]() Holy, oh holy, am I. Holy, she who bore me. Holy Hank, holy Haggard. Holy memory of Johnny Cash— heartbroken holy man, come back. |
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