Poems from owenhannon_2
Lemony grass is trimmed, then discarded.
Excess, swept up into a flurry by God’s breath,
Carried to stone and mineral—ice cubes in the...
Wheat stocks, fingers with feathers
Yellow roots in breath—wind
Above,
A home
A trail
A grove of
Sitting upon the edge of the world, ...
Bells, the song of God, cry through crispy mountain air as shawled and dressed disciples spill from the weathered church. The cobblestone...
Brace the knees—
And chop, chop, chop.
My heart’s just getting started
As I throw my head forward
And swing my arms forward and backward,...
The room is stewing with sweat and fake oils
It’s like incense at mass, the gold-plated chalices and the Gothic arms that hold up the place...