Poem a day challenge – Feb 9

Hungry Hands

there, among the majestic oaks and fiery red
manzanita, we idled beneath a knotty pine
and let our hands linger and touch
the grinding rock beneath its shady limbs.
gray and worn, made smooth by ancient hands
that worked fallen acorns against its
surface with stones until they broke open
and spilled their nutty guts. i feel my own
hardened truths rubbing against my ribs,
choking my voice, yearning to be cracked
open and spilling my guts into
your hungry hands

 

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