Splinters Left In Mind
By the time I saw
a feller for the trees
the lumberjacks had moved in
and cut me in half
A piece of me here
shards there
still nothing
of substance remained
so I trapped the wind
into my apathy,
and bore titanic gusts
throwing four seas
into eight deserts
till
buried in the earth
but raising
to move mountains aside
I vomit ash
and sing with a spray
crusts were broken
in communion
with cicadas,
the sacrament
burned my lips to the mantle
and the word was all mighty
until it became a mantra
for an obsession of the insane
drinking poisoned truths
till petals of yellow
fall on the grass
in the confusion of seven
—
if any vision or dream
burns too bright
shadows pale the heart
and the rot draws flies
Copyright © Jayne Eggins | Year Posted 2010
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