nothing is spared

Nothing is spared,
not the oyster with its grain of sand,
not the rocks tumbling in the river,
not the baby being born.

The pupa in its chrysalis
does not rejoice.
Skin splits and pulls away,
it sheds, or it scars.

It's all violence,
honed and hard:
the string around her neck,
the finger on the string on the fret on the neck,
a callus, or a pearl,
the translucent wing,
or the poetry of a girl.

Comments

[Kendra]

This is BEAUTIFUL.
Thank you so much for sharing it Janeen.

[arvind]

Loved the poem! The last two lines especially.

[nina]

Thanks, you guys!

[Jill]

Wow