God's Fingers The Wind Poem by Jennifer Cahill

Stars cannot punch
the sky, but can stab
with pin size tears.

Pin pricks of light shine
on the lake-sized pool
surrounded by grassy steps.

A slithering manitis the color
of the moon is emerging
from the water:

its teeth grab the skin.

Death the color of dust
is brushed off the arms
tense and curled to punch.

Trees violent in the rippling air
drop leaves the colors of Eden,
painting a dream that pushes life,

surrounded by flesh shaped to kill.