Golden Hands, poetry by Carrie Magness Radna at
Dylan Lapierre

Golden Hands

Golden Hands

written by: Carrie Magness Radna



snowflakes become droplets of rain

when my mind recognizes
the rainforest of a country
I’ve never been to;

tall, overgrown trees,
bird noises, & curious plants
that look like golden hands,
opening up from a distant prayer—

but I am now
standing in Central Park,
oceans away from this queer daydream,

the snow still fresh
upon my boots. I must
walk quicker,

or I will be frozen here,
missing the new jungle completely.

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