PARTLY REVEALED by Linda Simoni-Wastila

If you look close enough
in the mirror
soft creases trample
from your eyes,
so many tired circuits
relaying books read,
poems written,
tears shed.

Closer still, lines
surround your lips
carved canyons of past belly
laughs, false and true,
of smiles held too long,
of child’s play, of day lilies
before they spend themselves
in summer’s swelter.

If you dropped your robe
I could touch the crescent
under the clavicle
left from dog’s teeth;
the roughened skin
that failed to take
after the burn ran us
from the farm; the

indent too small to see
by the aureole but
certain to touch, souvenir
of the biopsy; the cleft
beneath once linked
to your mother,
where son, then daughter
bellowed forth.

The mirror reveals all,
map of your life, meager, full.

2 Comments

Filed under Linda Simoni-Wastila

2 responses to “PARTLY REVEALED by Linda Simoni-Wastila

  1. Whoa. Nicely visual and emotional piece. Well done.

  2. Gorgeous!

    “the roughened skin
    that failed to take
    after the burn ran us
    from the farm”

    That tells an awful lot of story in four lines. Very, very nice.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s