Thursday, August 12, 2021

My blood has bounce


My blood has bounce
My bones can bend
My flesh can rip, 
then stitch and mend.  

A sine jumps up 
then down and back,
a cycle weaves,
my spine can crack.

For all of life
is tears and patches,
of growth in rupture,
of light in matches.

Of ashes, mud, and moss, and mold
Of spores and buds, and new from old

The flexible, will learn to thrive
The rigid prick, will burn his hive

For all of life, is death of same,
and bouncy blood, will ease the game.