1. A fragment of one’s self left behind.
Seen as a plaque emblazoned in bronze
marking the spot where heaven fell 
& crashed into the ground,
              or a divine road map, like 
              pins connecting threads of time
              across dimensions,
              backwards and forwards,
              their routes only visible 
              when in tandem with others.
2. A force unstoppable, cradled in cobwebbed
cases of gold or silver, untouched
by time and space. Or, maybe,
touched too much by time and space,
instilling otherworldly qualities
deep in the grime of the bones 
sanctified by suffering. Stress 
fractures repeatedly stagger
those faithful few. Those hallowed. 
              Pilgrims flock to see
              dried locks of hair, 
              a sash, a few
              flasks of blood,
              a severed head,
              an inside joke.
Martin Hopson is a poet, musician, and educator from West Chester. Pennsylvania. He is an associate editor for Peach Velvet Magazine, and his works have appeared in Panoply and Daedalus. He holds a BSEd and MA in creative writing from West Chester University of Pennsylvania. He has also twice been selected to participate at Poetry by the Sea, a global poetry conference.

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