Friday, April 30, 2021

limen

every dead thing is sainted 
even if impermanent 
as sadness, staining breath,
straining glass

while our faces sigh into it--
an empty staircase 
of smoke, of panic, prayer 
rising, now howling

"open the door, open it"
gasping, holding on
to memories, remembering 
doors used to open


No comments: