Hands Hands together propping each other up. loosely forming a gothic house of prayer or perhaps simply playing “Here is the church Here is the steeple,” Will these hands turn over Presenting the wiggling fingers) Revealed when church is “opened” in the poem? Our hands are indeed a greater church, a cathedral, folded, a place, where we meet God open, performing deeds that honor him, evidence that God moves among us on a path, in places, wrought by our own hands Joan Leotta Joan Leotta plays with words on page and stage. She loves writing ekphrastic poetry. Her work has appeared on Visual Verse, The Ekphrastic Review, Pine Song, the Ashmoleon, and others. Her performance work includes telling tales of food, family, and strong women--and ekphrastic tales explicating art exhibits in museums.
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July 2022
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