Golden Hands
written by: Carrie Magness Radna
@cmrboxwoodstar1
Surprisingly,
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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