POETRY
Holy Saturday
Sabbath streets: dust and stone
Bated breath of mist
on a mountain’s face
Silent prayer
from the olive tree,
dew amassing on branches
The vulture, asleep
Snakeskin scattered like manna
Fish flopping
on shore, gasping
under opening sky
In the distance: smoke and fire
A murder of crows,
pecking at sunlight
Clouds like shredded cloth
A million tiny teeth
gnawing at the grain
Matthew J. Andrews is a private investigator and writer whose poetry has appeared or is forthcoming in Orange Blossom Review, Funicular Magazine, and EcoTheo Review, among others. His debut chapbook, I Close My Eyes and I Almost Remember, is forthcoming from Finishing Line Press. He can be contacted at matthewjandrews.com.
Photo credit: “Winter crow” by James Offer, via Flickr.com.
Heart of Flesh Literary Journal 