Wound

 The varnish has worn away from where my foot steps fell

In life's battle for grace I have wounded her too deeply 

Savage scars mar what once was infant skin

Time only retraces its steps, in the mind

where it travels as hands of a clock

always returning to where it begins

Here love, now myth comes to die

in its perpetual whirlwind of circling vultures

Its bones picked by fouls of carrion

Stench of once sweet, now rotting meat

draws me near the drone of flies

that suck the marrow out of seductive hunger for all but scavengers

Now but shadows cast

they too shall fade as memory's remains, swept by sun

into piles of darkness await broom's bristled rays

to clear away caressing cobwebs, the kiss of night

Reviews

[Betty Hermelee]

What once was in the reality of love, is no more...the footprint has disappeared, now only a shadow...the bones picked..."the stench of once sweet, now rotting meat"...."here love, now myth comes to die...everything fades away except memory remains..... a complex piece with life, death, and time
Warmly, B

[John the Baptist]

The past is a place that no longer exists. What we did then was determined by our consciousness at that point. Hopefully, we have grown beyond that.