Redemption
I awoke to the sound
touched by the sense
of a thought
skimming water
skipping across liquid
mass making ripples
flat stone, motion slow as
lips over flesh of the torso
inside the emptiness
of a sky, a space of
dusted illumination
the hot breath of God
plumbing the depths
simply to pull and tug a
baited hook lifting
a sinking weight
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Trial of the Oblique Triangle: Building Permit #78
A poem by Dorine Jennette of Davis.
Published on 01.07.10