written by Daniel Moore

The moment Mercy spilled over me
like an unrepentant dam, there were

seismographic shifts in my lips & eyes
as the world paused beneath my feet

& she splashed on every word.

What was heavy, dark & wet,
resting on the bottom of me, required

less attention, less time. I worked
the surface with a fierce display

of the body’s power to shine,

impermanent hands glowing with pain
refused the image of faith unseen.

You’re either here or you’re not she said
as the last drop fell from a Ram Dass sky,

no heaven in the way.

Daniel Moore lives in Oak Harbor, Washington on Whidbey Island. His poems are forthcoming in Weber Review, Cultural Weekly, Tule Review, Poetry South, January Review Plainsongs, The Cape Rock, Artifact Nouveau, Panoplyzine, The American Journal of Poetry, and Gyroscope Review. His chapbook, “Boys,” was recently released from Duck Lake Books. His first book, “Waxing the Dents,” was a finalist for the Brick Road Poetry Book Prize and was released in February 2020. Visit him at

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