Heartwood
By london_calling79
- 1758 reads
Strip the bark.
Peel thin slivers of gritted
question and whittled skin.
But leave the heartwood.
Pluck the leaves.
Leave bald bird stalks that scratch the sky and grasp at air.
But not the heartwood.
Cut the roots.
The tangled scrawl of
knitted earth and woven name.
But spare the heartwood.
Spare the centre.
Hide the bind of
lurking pulse and
wombed reluctance,
of sub skin film
and leave the heartwood.
Let it rest in folds of flesh.
Saw the branches.
Scatter dust like motes
of stars and sap the substance.
But save the heartwood.
Strip the bark.
To save the core
to spare the centre.
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Comments
One of those poems where you
One of those poems where you can feel the words. Sounds good.
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I agree with well wisher, I
I agree with well wisher, I can almost hear the cracking and scrapping involved.
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Congratulations. A rather
Congratulations. A rather late Facebook/Twitter pick of the day. Please like an share if you enjoyed this poem too - and London_Calling79, please feel free to change the image if this one doesn't feel right.
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Loved this poem. I too
Loved this poem. I too struggle with massive font issues.
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Nothing wrong with a big font
Nothing wrong with a big font. Just think how many grateful people there'll be, reading it on their phones!
Brilliant pick, and this is wonderful london-calling. Cuts straight to the quick.
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