it is sacred, the way
soil clinging to the seed
of a new shoot
pushing out of the earth
a finger here, a knuckle
there, but never the hand al-
together, except in a vision
for which I’m loathe to take
any credit, even for a nail
God pulls into a run-down motel and pays in cash. God wears a mask and walks slowly down the hallway and the one light bulb is flickering as he turns the key in the door.
Daylight and darkness are real, and seasons,
but everything else is a story…
what i have asked, Lord, you have granted
thank you for the days
for the rays
that fall slanted
across the face
And he had imagined sitting in the evening
with his friend the Devil watching the small
human creatures frolic in the grass. They would
be like children, good natured and always singing.
When had he realized his mistake?
The moment feels half decadent and half desperate, these sugared minutes spent barely sheltered from the wetness of the storm, within earshot of the noise of thunder and as close … Continue reading
“Whenever we don’t understand something, we call it dark.” —Father Corbally of the Vatican Observatory . to free eyes from the keyholes of the skull give them feet for … Continue reading