Take this once-smooth wrapper.
Draw your finger along its creases,
trace their deepening.
Notice moles proliferate.
See these accumulated scars -
you can count them.
When I am itchy, dry and cracked,
you will know that
eczema also comes and goes.
And your skim of lumpy contours,
brushing hollows,
isn’t map to all I’ve been.
Dissect my guts instead.
There are summers –
smiling, invincible – still to find.
We will watch ourselves unfold.
Stripped of winter’s husk,
shall read our own entrails.
x. 2022
ROPES #31, 2023
I wasn't sure where the opening stanzas would take me until Camus came to my rescue:
ReplyDelete"In the depths of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer."
N.B. This line is actually his, unlike the the longer 'quote/poem' extrapolated from it (supposedly in L'Etranger, but not) and so often misattributed (all over the internet) on cards, memes and coffee mugs.
Many thanks to fellow Kevin Higgins workshoppers for crucial final refinements.
A fine poem, Mark.
ReplyDelete