The Artist by Amy Pollard

I saw the angel in the wood
But my hand slipped
Not once, but twice
And slashed a grin on that hallowed face
In that fiendish light
He saw right through me
And my cathedrals
Through clenched teeth
He spat venom
Sweetness dissolved my tongue
How foolish was I
To think these trembling hands
Could save mankind


About the Author:
Amy Pollard is a poet, writer and student. She maintains a book review blog at Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in publications such as Emerge Literary Journal and Eunoia Review. When not writing, she enjoys making music and drinking coffee.