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  • Writer's pictureKevin O'Keefe

God's fingers (poem)

Updated: Mar 30, 2020

rise long and slender

from the needle-strewn earth

his pinky sways close to our tiny home and

we don’t want to die in bed.

It isn’t whimsy or the need for a

big sky, that keeps us up at night.

Last month, an old maple sheared

off the wall of our shed.

In his palm I wish to rest but

a black gooey stigmata pools there.

Sixteen-feet closer where I was told he lives

his fingers open into two crisp peace symbols—

nothing goes out of fashion in his open air closet.

Later this week a pig farmer will come over and chain saw

the bottom while I pull a cable halfway from the top in his bouncy tractor.

The whole morning I’ll apologize for the song of grief called “technology.”

In the falling trees’ earth-shaking echo I’ll have my Hercules moment,

suspicious that its’ shadow will overtake me.

I’m told, a trees’ roots are twice its’ canopy.

If so, there’s a whole world

I’ll have to beg forgiveness from

when I go down.

1 comment

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1 komentář

25. 7. 2020

Did you receive my last (first) comment?

If so, I think it posted before I intended to end it.

so, once more:

a pebble in a pond that disappears

the beating of a heart that no one hears

a seed in the earth that no one sees

and so many nests concealed in the trees


Your poem is amazing!

simple and strong

puzzlingly profound

hope you don't mind:

"its" requires no apostrophe

"a tree's roots" (trees' roots=two or more trees)

Totally up to you. You've got the license.

Amazing poem!

(and love your name)

To se mi líbí
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