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Two poems by Tim Poole

Writing a Poem

Yesterday, I ate the sun.
I picked it from the sky
Like a grape off its vine
Ripe and ready to burst.
It burned my fingertips but
I ate it anyway. I wanted to
Know if it could
Make me warm
If it could enlighten me,
A beacon in the dark.

It burned my throat,
Made me mute
I tried to cast light from
My fingers
Nothing came out.
I sat confused in the dark
And waited for
A new sun to rise.

 

*

 

from St Andrew’s Cathedral

They built a house to God,
Spires stretching to the sky,
Adam’s limp finger.

From those fingertips would have rung
The Voice of God, calling out
The time of day, weddings, funerals.

Deep within the palm they chanted
A coarse whisper of grace, curative
To lepers and the lame.

They would have held the Book,
Felt the Spirit in their hands
Hands that no longer hold

Life. Two fingers stretch
Limp to the sky, cut off from
Their god as well as their body.

__________

 

Timothy Poole teaches high school English in Western Connecticut. A Texas transplant, he is getting to know the northeast and some of the poetry that grows in its wild.

One comment on “Two poems by Tim Poole

  1. speak766
    July 4, 2017

    Love both of these! Very well written. I especially love the first one and the line “I sat confused in the dark and waited for a new sun to rise.” Brilliant! Keep writing!

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This entry was posted on July 1, 2017 by in poetry.

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