top of page
SEEKING MIRACLES
After the fall,
After the crash,
Twisted gratitude,
In flight, spiralling
Somersaults,
Crumpled,
shattered,
I lie,
Angels at my back.
Blunt. Force. Trauma.
My eyes open.
Tarmac axis,
Orange glow,
Still alive.
Still breathing,
Hit and run.
I roll away,
to the grassy bank,
Here comes the pain.
And the shock.
My coup de grâce,
After the fall,
After the crash,
Twisted gratitude.
_edited.png)
I wonder if those priests of chance
Back in Roman times, so obsessed with the
Flight pattern of birds, would they interpret
My coffee crema as well, if they had a travel
Sized aropresss would they become interested
In finding meaning there too. A place i go to
Everyday, a tool i use every morning. A ritual.
A liturgy. My Eucharist. A crema communion.
bottom of page