POETRY Nancy Duci Denofio

HIS BLEEDING HEART

Nails in His Hands
Nails in His Feet
Nails in His Heart

I thought
why did everyone
stare at God?
He is only a
statue - his
heart was bleeding,
his hands, feet,
covered in blood
with nails -

nails like grandpa
when he died

God had to scare
more then just me -
Gods eyes they moved
when I moved, as if
to follow me -

grandpas never followed
me, I never knew him
either. . .

we all sat in the
front row - near nuns -
God, he was dressed
in red roses - like
the blood dripping
from his hands

God, he never wore
shoes

Nancy Duci Denofio
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