by: Randi Ward
Five poems, a multitude of feelings…..
Needlework
Her boiling
back reeks
of sweaty saddle
blankets
and horse
liniment.
Needle
Eye to eye
with the patient
needle
stitching
my cheek
shut between
sniffles.
Mutts
He reached
inside
before
they ever
opened
their eyes—
dreams die
whimpering.
Maze
Heaps of infested
blankets bristle
dark patterns
no one can escape.
Bath
She soaks long
enough to make
a blind mirror cry
her deepest bruise
blue.
