STANISŁAW STANIK
HAND
the plowed field on your palm
spikes tucked on furrows of your
veins
spiny thistles
grafted shoots of roses and wilding
all birds and trees live on your
palm
when you open it to stroke my head
the birds take flight
the roses bloom
and the earth
rotates around the sun,
IMAGE WITH MY FATHER *
when dawn knocks to fading stars
when brightness moves awkward
leans to the side of bright red
glow
father in backyard walks in the
dark
you, my father, placed foundation stone
forged my house with hammer nails
and saw
where the lowest step of the ladder
leads to the top
see how much more
it needs to happiness
you, my father, walk around
from woodshed to toolshed not too far to the barn
your hardworking hands feed the animals
and feed me with inspiration
going far and high
STANISŁAW STANIK
POLAND
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