Casting hands downwards, to sides,
away from the angle of prayer
Stained glass windows shed light
hard to pull from your clothing
like cat hair or those little green buds
of sticktights
The feel of beads, rubbed worry-smooth,
does not keep the pain from your palms
Outside someone is calling your name
but you can’t ever seem to remember
what name to come running
back to
**this was written for a poetry workshop. The assignment was to capture a moment. Being me, I had to capture an invented moment. That’s not cheating, right? it did give me an interesting idea for a story, though…
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Inventive or not, this scene resonates with me – nicely done.
Thank you, I was wondering about this piece so positive feedback is much appreciated! 🙂