Friday, January 22, 2016

I touched a glass

I touched a glass clear,
without blemish, so cold
it burned my hand.
My hand remained;
I could not withdraw it,
I could not go back,
I could not seek faith again,
I could only go forward,
my hand to the glass,
burning, feeling emptied,
feeling filled,

Photograph by George Hodan via Public Domain Pictures. Used with permission.

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