Tag Archives: rebirth




listen to a punctured chest

the way air whistles
as if an april full of birdsongs
is caged by these lungs

blood-red narratives filled
a vacuumed cavity of rhetoric
with the invention of verses

a shaken nest, a cracked embryo
became what leaves
the family tree

and october was a paradigm
curving around me
like north-driven wind
rusting naked
until snowfilled eyes
drift again

observe the healing confusion

the transitioning angles of color
from blackache to
green and yellow

circumstances reborn as ink
a blue guise
stitched to a quilt of january
for survival of the bitterness

distance was a salvation
an ordered protection
to engage a palindrome
a selfsame reconstruction

dawn is falling
and this poem should never be


©  lori hamilton


~we are of similar fingers



a letter to god-

darkening clouds press against an unholy blue

and a gospel of crows from the cornfield

sing their daily devotion in d minor

there is pressure in my lungs, father

for I have sinned

a thinness of air, shallow with grief

and I’m emptied of belief that there lies

any beauty in a woman who wears

two faces

and if I am, perhaps, a shadow, a ghost

a previous apparition or a future prediction

a grey blemish on an ultrasound

wishing to be born again

will you fill the absence in my arteries

with an aperture of threnody

and two thirds red ink

so I can bleed verse

on the pages of my skin

rebirth me a poet, father

turn my eyes east past spent bone

and collective sighs

that I might write the measurement

of trust found in wind

and stand beside me, us two, barefoot

among wilted petals

so I can touch the laboring ground

the crab apple rooted for fruit

and miles draped in lavender

father, cup hands to my ears

that I might hear the flutesongs echo

in distant valleys of valediction

the cracking sounds of a doe and fawn

sojourning in summer’s forest

call of a meadowlark

in fall’s forgiving rustle of leaves

rebirth me a poet, father

and I shall write the meaning of the moon

its pure white soul forever hanging on

©  lori hamilton