I Pray for the Women

By Ishana Patel 

I pray for the women

who eat alone at diners

elbows on chipped laminate,

coffee gone lukewarm,

sausage sweating under fluorescent light,

they stare into the distance

as if it owes them an apology.

I pray for the one

who once held a little boy

with sunlight in his hair,

who called her mommy

until she let pride take the wheel,

drove him straight into memory.

Now she folds his school work

like confession letters

she’s too proud to return.

I pray for the one

who found a soft bed,

a kind laugh,

a man who made breakfast on Sundays and called her flaws beautiful.

But she needed storm sirens,

not lullabies.

She walked out the door

looking for fire, and

burned her eyes out.

I pray for the shadow dodgers,

the anxious women,

who flinch when life reaches for them. Women who don’t trust

anyone with the same blood

or the same bed.

women who will always keep running

even when no one’s chasing.

I don’t ask for much, but please.

Just let them sleep one night

without dreaming of

what they could have been

if they’d just stayed

at the table

a little longer.

1st Place Poetry

13-18 Age Group

Read the piece in “Detroit Voices” featuring the 2025 DWR Award winners.

Ishana Patel is a 16-year-old writer at Detroit Country Day School. She writes flash fiction and short stories, along with blog posts for her personal blog. In her free time, Ishana enjoys listening to music and going to concerts, which are often sources of inspiration for her writing.