right hand pointing

 

     
  Carolyn Adams

Mercy

 


A deep gush in a raw machine,

and the heart stops without knowing

at whose command that hot stream fails

the meat of the body.

Red that followed a map of currents,

thumb-thick tunnels, now flowers

to black lace in the brain.

 

When rest is all it wants,

the heart’s cage is broken.

Metal plates shock it, a hand strokes it

back to life.

 

And what was over has begun again.

A weary frame cannot fall softly

into the cup of eternity,

cannot sleep

with the roots and snow.


 

 

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