Poem of the Week / Victoria Sanchez

Hymn of Lost Things

I drove my soul
(oh sings my soul)
into the corners of my apartment,
into cracks of wood
that line the floor.
I drove my soul
(my soul, my soul)
in the gentle lights that
hang
like bright fruit.
I drove my soul
into blackened-burnt pots,
Brillo pads, Apache-red pumps,
hotel pens, bobby-pins, socks.
Once, I let you drive my soul,
and if that is a sin
(God forgive me),
I knew nothing else.

But now, I drive my soul
into the sea, the sky,
and it over-
flows.
I drive my soul
into fog and rivers,
into the things that grow
beneath my feet–
and my soul sings.
And if anyone asks,
tell them
God passed by in his Sunday hat
to relieve us of past sins,
and I waved,
and he waved back.

Victoria Sanchez  12-06-2012

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