Hymn (1)

by E. R. Skulmoski

Hymn (1)
by E. R. Skulmoski

Jehovah, I was in the basement when the mold 

And mildew congregated to form the contours of your face, 

The second coming of the shroud of Turin. 

I was a river at that time, abruptly damned

And cut off, unable to nourish the trees in my garden. 

Catalog of intrusive thoughts galloped  like horses,

Peeling back the face of my beloved mountain. 

Prayers at that time were cold, wet rotting the baseboards, 

Staining the carpet. There I laid down, expecting to breathe my last 

For the night, when you put your hand over my head 

And the morning light came barging through the window.

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E. R. Skulmoski was born in Vancouver and raised in Hong Kong. She currently lives in the Interior of British Columbia with her husband and four children. Her work has been published in Ekstasis, Barely South Review, and Vita Poetica, among others.

“Cold Window” by Pegi Nicol MacLeod, 1937.