I start each day
putting skin on
this skeleton
then I walk out
into sunshine
or rain, watching
carefully for
nails and rose
thorns, loose
stones on old
steps, low slung
branches and
those metal balls
at the back of cars.
I only have
one skin which
I take off each
night as I drift
into dreams
where skin is
optional ...
i love this poem.
ReplyDeletechilling
ReplyDelete