From Whipstitches

by: Randi Ward

Five poems, a multitude of feelings…..

Bath

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.

 

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