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Grey Sparrow Journal

Issue 30, July 31, 2017
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In the thin hour

 


my soul slipped under the door
a paper rectangle of sunlight.
I was dreaming I carried the stone baby
under my heart. I could have carried it forever
but my bones were turning to water.

My heart began its countdown
while my arms embraced my body.
The ghosts I lay with rolled away
like rocks from an empty tomb.
Do not look for me among them.
Let your hands pass over my wounds

like a potter molding clay.

 

—Angele Ellis