A SCAR IS JUST THE SOUND OF A RUST-KISSED WORLD HEALING and FROM THE OTHER SIDE OF THE TURNSTILE from James Goertel’s bi-weekly poetry feature, Under The Same Moon, speak of transformations of the spirit.
A SCAR IS JUST THE SOUND OF A RUST-KISSED WORLD HEALING
While no one was watching
She walked away
Into the salt of a sea
Waiting to scab over
Every broken promise bleeding.
Listen to the waves
Holding her now,
To the hum of new skin;
A scar is just the sound
Of a rust-kissed world healing.
FROM THE OTHER SIDE OF THE TURNSTILE
The fog dawn spilling milk light
Across the black glass of a bedroom window.
The castigations of a midday sun
Bringing morning shadows to their knees.
The dust of dusk upon the skin
In spite of a diurnal course’s hue and cry.
The night’s new language
Renaming everything with its ebon alphabet.
What I have seen,
What has seen me.