Your Hands Spoke More Than Prayer

Eunoia Review

leaning with a lighted candle
you drew my eyes

you stroked my face
into the mirror

trained me to whistle
freedom fled with
the burning afternoon

your shadow grew roots
along crimson mountainsides

silent steps split the wind
to a bed of wildflowers
where you lay, cold & still

the town below has shifted
into rusted boxcars
traveling north

I tell the silhouette
sketched in soil

I swig your medicine
to the drugstores
planked shut

dream violet for last
year’s people reeling

Justin Robinson is an MFA candidate at San Francisco State University. His recent poem can be found in the upcoming issue of Rufous City Review.

View original post


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s