Poetry and Writes

Shedding Bark (POEM)

I wandered lonely through

the trees, felt their cold

bark grate the uncertainty

off of my hands, my palms,

my wrists, my thin arms--

down to the very core of

my flesh, to the rotted

bone, breaking layers of

combed marrow and

returning to me something

primal

something raw--something that

made the veins in my feet

throb wildly to go. I ran, now.

I ran, I skimmed, I

crushed the earth.

A chill wind rushed against my body

but I never wavered. The trees

around me, they did though,

knocking against one another like

the crude instruments of a

foreign planet's race.

I looked back for a moment to see

my discarded grated skin fluttering

on its crucifix nails, hung with scrubbing moss.

It danced like I did now,

free and light as I am now,

still chained to a pinning tack

as I surely still must be.