The Bodies of Saints at Night

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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2 Comments

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2 responses to “The Bodies of Saints at Night

  1. Inventive or not, this scene resonates with me – nicely done.

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