THE SURFACE

with distances
our skin
our heart
our thoughts

the countryside
a big city

such poverty and misfortune
such glittering opulence

visibly and invisibly
blinding

even before the mildew

*   *   *

my turtle shell my weakness
three times I’ve prayed it not be moved

*   *   *

casting addiction
or promiscuity
or crime
along racial
or ethnic
or neighborhood
in or out of

where charity is not supple
communion

no hour
attended as fully as we might

Poem copyright 2016 by Jnana Hodson
To see the full set, click here.

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