The wound clots slowly
appearing to heal
an amorphous
blotted mass congeals
Spring waters wash away
a dam made of clay
and leave one of sticks
intact, unnicked
A simple touch
or caressing wind
can open much
and blood flows again
Healing and peeling
several severs
more and more congealing
torrents unsettled
cracks and wrinkles
sprinkled on skin
sagging facade
untouched by sin
Youthful resistance
at first betrays hurt
but cruel insistence
leads life to dirt
And in time the spot
gushing essence
is a gaping blot
a death sentence
No reprieve
for the aggrieved
from a mark of
stark scarlett
All youth all hope
spurt forth uncouth
spilling banal
as white rope
Pale flesh alone
turns white as bone
no festering burn
in an ashen urn
Unseized by fear
rickety dust at ease
need not mistrust
the teasing breeze


c. 2001, 2008 Evan Gilling


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