Shifting Position

by November 3, 2023 0 comments

I turn towards the light, fearing hope, stone
faced in the wake of a smile, shutters down

as muscles of my eyes flex. Through layers
of skin brightness filters encouraging a flicker

of lids and movement of limbs an answer
to a call. A call I recognise as the warmth

of compassion provides a shiver. Though it’s
just a moment’s bliss before nimbus intervals

weep and lean on my bones pushing them into
earth. Pistol-whipped, dazed, warped at the knees,

I become drenched in the brutal depths of
mortality, biting hard on consumed memory,

shuffling on a journey to redemption, one stride
ahead of the slow crawl of acceptance. Yet,

in the midst of the storm grey beads cultivate
roots, promoting growth, strengthening resolve,

feeding understanding as I wake and smell
the bullshit, shifting position to follow the sun.

editors note:

A pivot from putrid to pleasant. – mh clay

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