Milky moon rays trickle o'er fingers and palm, then
Silhouette this collage of keratin and pocked skin,
Wrapped sinewy and protruding in dissimilar quin,
Unfolding in the light, then crumpling in chagrin,
Each gnarly knuckled, entwining with it's twin,
Enrobed in wisps of prayer.
2 comments:
Hope and despondency meet. Hope is down for the count. And then...
Thanks for the comment.
Post a Comment