swiss-army knife fingers

smear blood berry jam

preserves stick to cement

even road worms wiggle away

from burst skin spread


glimpse a scavenger sniff

paws peeling up remnants

and flick gravel off with claws

scrape sound of stone and nail

tongue poked out to taste then

dropped back down to decay

left to bake on pavement

like terracotta-red clay


feel nostalgia ache for

thumbed xylophone ribs

sticking spider leg lashes

gold hair spun nests

moth wing skin cells

now reduced to crepe layers

tire-pressed into pavement


By Eileen Ellis

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *


Opus Archive!

Check out the history of our pages here!