Sometimes I feel as if God Is trying to speak to me But I can’t understand Them. Perhaps It is the language barrier. For I only speak The language of lips And tongue and teeth. And They are partial to the dialect Of a perfectly ripe apricot Dropping into your palm On a warm summer night.
Amanda Rawson Hill is an author of novels and picture books. She lives with her husband and five kids in Central California. You can sign up to receive her quarterly postcard for readers (in the snail mail!) at the link on her website.
So wonderful. Thanks for this!
Hey, I know you! Beautiful poem!