How much our hands are God's
to be running fingers over braille cities.
We are this hand pushed through our womb.

Weeping with each other's blood in our eyes.

I dreamed that I slept with the light on.

I was asleep in my mother's bed because my father was out to sea

and my claim on him was to feel the frets of my death sure to come.

Sweet, small fishing rod. Ears of wind rushing through many jellied trees.

We were on this cardboard earth with its puffing volcanoes

miniature baseball players and horrible winds

scored by musician's hands.

Stand in the strong ear of this love.

About this poem
"When Yolanda hit the Philippines, I felt devastated and at a loss here in the States. This is a poem to stand in solidarity with those who lost so much."
-Sarah Gambito

About Sarah Gambito
Sarah Gambito is the author of "Delivered" (Persea Books, 2009). She teaches at Fordham University and lives in New York.

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The Academy of American Poets is a nonprofit, mission-driven organization, whose aim is to make poetry available to a wider audience. Email The Academy at poem-a-day[at]poets.org.


(c) 2015 Sarah Gambito. Originally published by the Academy of American Poets, www.poets.org. Distributed by King Features Syndicate