November

I prayed for a sign,
                                 -and behold-
there it is
not,
the neon red cardinal emerging
from the dead, barren view
of earth,
the decrepit backyard fence,
the unpleasant sound of
dry wind
scraping the weeds,

and the neon red bird
not there.

And behold,
the absence of the sign
more shocking than its presence,
teaching me that God is not a hotline.