Good Friday, 2020

by Jonathan Cooper

Hands hammering a nail into wood

In the laneway’s narrowing light
restaurant workers clutch at coats,
plastic bags sagging with personal effects.
The doorman curses and frets
at the forgotten family photo, taped inside
his staff locker, smiling into the dark
as men pound nails into plywood,
closing every way in—
every way out.

Category: Featured, Poetry