Except for the mantis,

they do not pray.

Finned, pawed, webbed, clawed,

horned, winged, tailed, hooved,

some would not fit

inside a church. Some might be 

squished, others chased out.

The way we chimney our skies,

raise sea levels like Moses, 

turn coral the color of bone,

I sometimes pray

for empty oceans, silent jungles.

I sometimes pray

we disappear instead. O Lord, save them

from us.