Featuring Healing Verse Germantown community poetry.
Mice, Moths, and the Great Big Hand
Return with the rabbit pulled from the hat
that sits wedged between the child’s teeth.
A whirlwind of eyes reveal the watch,
of taunting tears fall to the lion’s den.
Knowing if I beg for them to disappear,
they will only bite back, teeth bared.
I briefly talk with the stars
who see the arrow pierce my lower back.
Spring is on its high horse.
A pending war wages between mice,
moths, and the great big hand.
Punishing those who wait idly by
for the better things of this life.
Today I sit by the open window.
Allowing the harsh breeze
to raise hairs on my forearms.
A foolish smile makes its gentle way,
if only for a blushing moment.
I hum along to the tunes breathing
life and rhythm in my beating heart.