2 December 2009 | Vol. 9, No. 4

Alessio's Hand

Comes to me in the dream of Odin's eye

resting in smooth silt at the bottom of the Well of Wisdom.

She was one of three sisters, her head thrown

back in laughter. It was hard to look for very long.

Are there still coyotes roaming those fields? A name floats

in—white eyelet, a dress. An armful of daisies,

or the man slight as someone's daughter. And then, the word

soil itself… Or the first person to make fabric unfurl

from needles in knots. Just when you think there's calm

again she throws a stick through the bike's wheel.

I was never good enough. Dust devils, that's what

they're called, right? On the side of his barn: blood

red, yellow of cheddar, a blazing green like winter rye—

his Hex sign, painted "Chust for nice." Polish on the nails

makes her hands sweat. And again, Alessio's missing

fingers. Awake, I find one more small rabbit

to knit from a cotton skein, and Odin's

garden full bloom mid-winter.

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For further reading:

See the complete list of work by Katrina Roberts at 42opus. Browse the contents of 42opus Vol. 9, No. 4, where "Alessio's Hand" ran on December 2, 2009. List other work with these same labels: poetry.

42opus is an online magazine of the literary arts.

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