Cicatrix

You, my nymph,

gestating gestures

'til you burst to life,

brief life, or, so it seems,

so fierce and present

there is no thought of

a past, there is no doubt

in which direction you fly,

only marvel, even as

you rest, still bursting

inside, on a leaf, 'til the

next moment takes you

like the wind, into the

rest of your life.