Searching for Things to Worship Sorting through fluttering debris of thick boyhood days, tangle of jungle browned with our absence, I remember how you cupped water at Cedar Creek, your hands a chalice. And flowers you planted near the bank to make it your church, somewhere to sit in the greening? comfort of a private prayer. A place one might see God and not be surprised. “Winner of the Codhill Poetry Chapbook Prize for 2006, Patrick Carrington’s Thirst reads like a novena, a plea for understanding and mercy.” –Pauline Uchmanowicz, Final Judge