Thursday, February 28, 2008

Hung up on crosses

By Francis Scudellari

I've been hung up
On crosses, dangled at
An early age
Taut, clinging to suffer …

Greet, a friend to long, lost
Comfort, close in,
Low whispered embraces …

Of vague-voiced love,
A seductive promise,
Faithless stabs deep,
Self inflicts confidence …

In cob-webbed words,
Time ripped from must-filled books,
Tongue bound, ghostly
Shadows beyond grasping …

Still, stale spirits
Spun, whirled around by gusts,
At last, my companions …

As I finger
Coarse palms, now scarred over,
Unlock old wounds,
Holes, my only reward
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