Best Leaned Poems

I. The Pastor’s Hand

At dawn’s brittle cusp—
  he climbs, each step
    a nail in time’s coffin
  breath ragged
    a Psalm torn mid-hymn.

The rope tastes of incense and myrrh—
  Liberty’s fracture
    braided through its...

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On the slope of hill
The shadow of the leaned tree
Pause for the trekkers...

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I glared out from my window and found a different place...
Where I once ran too before I fell from grace...
My eyes saw something that blinded my decisions...
I leaned on a heart that was not purely inspirations...
All at once the bottom fell out and my cries...

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love could not
flap her wing but
love leaned
into this storm...

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