SHIFTING by Elizabeth P. Glixman

 

Shifting
By Elizabeth P. Glixman

Hold my hope in your hands.
It is too cold to touch,
too stale to breathe.
It does not exist
except in crumbs of bread
that line the plastic wonder bag
and coat the trash can's empty floor.

Shape shifts my eyes to shame.
It falls between the pulses of my fingertips:
a bird on the road
whose spirit has long fled.
There is not a whimper in this wind.
Saturation is gone.
Hope is slight movements of air.

Hold my hope in your hands.
Grapes in vineyards bloom

and roses in the garden weep.

I cannot carry emptiness around, today.
It makes my muscles weak.
It blinds me with demands.
It remains alive,
taunting wishes.

Hold my hope in your hands.
Make it warm, make it rise;
palpable to touch.
Hold my hope in your hands.
Let wishes blow in the wind.

Elizabeth P. Glixman is a poet, writer and artist. She is the author of 4 poetry chapbooks, the most recent I AM THE FLAME Finishing Line Press. Her short story "Auras" is in the 2023 Coolest American Stories Anthology. Check out her blog here. 

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