April 5, 2008

Harvest by Éireann Lorsung

Posted in poetry tagged , at 1:09 pm by placeinthestars


In half daylight my sisters and I went out to harvest the bodies of men
those fragile things
                                 their skin the color of paper    cinnamon    polished light
and dark wood        marks
                                           on their shoulders from vaccinations
marks in their hearts where children
                                                     grew or girls they loved lived
              Like other crops we cultivated
                                                               many varieties
                                the hair of some was golden-orange as corn silk
All the bodies of the men were crying out
                                                                    in silence to be touched
there in the grey fog of morning
                                                       slender knuckles
and hair on the instep of the feet
                                                      the fields of the world are a cathedral
of love waiting to happen

~Éireann Lorsung



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