When God sowed darkness and the Devil a *****
Abuela dug so deep
her oldest son fell through.
I dangled my constellations like ghosts that might
carry him to the surface,
a grip hard as ice,
a grip twice as thin.
Inertia yanked ten in two --
five fingers, pop;
ten fingers, stop --
he took them all down, the
tendons’ endless unfurling.
I, ladder, endlessly descending.
He, father, ends up standing.
May 17, 2018
May 17, 2018 at 3:29 PM UTC
When God sowed darkness and the Devil a *****
Abuela dug so deep
her oldest son fell through.
I dangled my constellations like ghosts that might
carry him to the surface,
a grip hard as ice,
a grip twice as thin.
Inertia yanked ten in two --
five fingers, pop;
ten fingers, stop --
he took them all down, the
tendons’ endless unfurling.
I, ladder, endlessly descending.
He, father, ends up standing.