When Lazarus Moves His Hands

When Lazarus Moves His Hands

by Marchell Dyon

He wiggles his fingers like spider legs
Now free from Sheol’s invisible chains

With the swiftness of a snail,
He moves his fingers closer to sunlight

That filters in like ivy
That penetrates through the cave wall

He hears his name being called
From a voice vague but familiar

By the sound of this voice, death’s web lets loose
And cannot hold him

His left hand starts to unravel
The death shroud cocoon on his right

Faster now, untangling each coil
Before the powers-that-be change their minds

At first he is startled by all the darkness
From the echoes tunneling toward him from outside

He bangs his fists upon stone
With endless night behind him

He shuffles into open air astonished by the crowd
He walks half-bandage into the sun
Marchell Dyon is a disabled poet. She believes her disability has inspired her creative spark. Her poetry has been published in Toasted Cheese Literary Journal, Blue Lake Review, A Little Poetry, Medusas’ Kitchen, The Stray Branch, Strange Horizons, Mused Bella Online, Convergence Literary Journal, Silver Blade Magazine and Torrid Literature Journal. She is from Chicago IL.

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