Religion Poem by John Tansey

Religion



Ah, to hug the torso of a sensual woman

my fingers splayed between her ribs
like flying buttresses

supporting her arch like a shrine...

her palms, reaching steeple skyward,
as she releases white pigeons

and the world, too, flies home.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
John Tansey

John Tansey

Bronx, New York
Close
Error Success