Monday, December 20, 2010

Isis Ward

Image borrowed from Trulyfool


Isis Ward

One by one, another gurney girl,
some waddling the hall to gain gravity,
then lying-in for a few hours of personal gethsemane

They say there're flashes underneath the lids,
gembursts, pain novas betokening new space and time

The métier -- splitting the physical self,
inside-outing at the crux,
doing what's ever been done
like it's never been done, then

Catching the one tune that becomes the other,
childsong lungful of itself
after the lungshriek of the she

And at its denouement,
in the spotlit aureole of the O.R.
or dimmer shine of the recovery tableau

Every one of them a just-now Maryam,
each, for the now, a Queen of H


Trulyfool

Posted over on his site Light At The End Of The Tether
Listed as #91 over on Magpie Tales 45

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