Confetti (22)

This is another poem by Brian Francis


I met a woman
who said she could read
palms and knew
the night like she knew the laughter
of her children’s children.

When I presented the skin graft
that half moons my right palm
she laughed and said
“Some prayers
are like grenades
and some you fling
hoping to make confetti
of constellations.
This one-
you held too long.”

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.

You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <strike> <strong>