The foot goes through the ground’s false ground.
in her legs, the nerves alive and suddenly singing fire.
to the light and they are dying to repay her.
like messages written in invisible ink.
into a negative bible of light on dark.
that detect the faintest afterthought of matter.
the bones will shine like neon tubes.
uttered like an apology for the frangible.
Adam McGee was raised in rural Delaware and now lives in Boston, where he is completing doctoral work at Harvard University. His poetry has been published in Potomac Review. He holds an A.M. in African and African American Studies from Harvard University, and an M.T.S. from Harvard Divinity School.
This entry was posted in Contributing Writer: Devon Miller-Duggan, Poetry and tagged hornet poem, poem about illness by Miriam Sagan. Bookmark the permalink.
These are really wonderful poems. Thanks for sharing them.