Menu

Poetry

Some small bone in your foot is longing for heaven
                          —Robert Bly

This twinge at first stir
too modest for throb,
more diffident
than tug,
not an itch,
not the most
incurious twitch
of a hook,
not a jerk,
but the tease
of brustle
of the fine, stiff pinions
of every curtained
saint and cherub.


The Image archive is supported in part by an award from the National Endowment for the Arts.

Access one piece of artwork every month for free! To experience the full archive, log in or subscribe.

Related Poetry

The Psalm of Then

By

Nicholas Samaras

Bone Box

By

Chris Forhan

When the Dove Flew Overhead

By

Amy Newman

cassette tape by romana klee on flickr

Father Rodney

By

Richard Pierce

Pin It on Pinterest