Sunday, August 28, 2016

Lizz Murphy - Poem 237: The crook of my arm



THE CROOK OF MY ARM


In the crook of my arm is the put out of your eyes 
a shocking sky fields rolling like a naming of the dead 
all the ploughed bones shuddering shoulders 
Impossible horrors urge the sun to catch on your collar 
whitewash what we know of history
remember only the stems of freedom the fed finches



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2 comments:

  1. Rob SchackneAugust 28, 2016 at 4:32 PM

    That is magnificent, Lizz!

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  2. Lizz Murphy PoetAugust 28, 2016 at 9:03 PM

    Thanks so much Rob. I think my fed finches are a take on 'fed thrushes' ??? or something from a Mary Oliver book. I must check ...

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