Hank Williams was hymning
“I Saw the Light” that night
when after dispatched glasses
of small-batch bourbon
and increasingly tall tales
of sorrow, heartache, and woe
Uncle Rick removed his right eye
and handed it to me unsolicited,
an alabaster marble in his palm,
the iris cobalt blue—coral icing
around a hearse-black funeral pie.
After a lifetime of wondering,
my fingers brushed his hand
and I knew he saw me plain.
Oct 18, 2016
Oct 18, 2016 at 12:46 PM UTC
Hank Williams was hymning
“I Saw the Light” that night
when after dispatched glasses
of small-batch bourbon
and increasingly tall tales
of sorrow, heartache, and woe
Uncle Rick removed his right eye
and handed it to me unsolicited,
an alabaster marble in his palm,
the iris cobalt blue—coral icing
around a hearse-black funeral pie.
After a lifetime of wondering,
my fingers brushed his hand
and I knew he saw me plain.
