this scar on my left knee

is a pink flower petal

faded & crumpled origami 

a time-stamped map

my school girl's body turning to jump 

out from a van

as if i have wings

instead of coltish legs & black 

polished shoes

the door swinging back

its pointed edge, dull rusty blade on my skin

my eyes, once carefree & blind

suddenly became cautious 

of leaping & falling 

blind as maple leaf during autumn

(how i admire the faith of baby birds) 

i had other scars since then 

but you never forget the first time

you see your flesh, not a wrapped & bound book

but a living tissue, popping fat & pulsing 

red blood & bones, tiny veins

fragile as roots 

of a spring bulb

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub:  MTB, The Body & Poetry - where I am hosting about writing a body part/s as part of my history.   Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.  

Unmasked, I am

i am unfurled leaf of unpublished book
my verses kited in clouds, imperfect meter 
i peer through half opened windows of houses as
if i am reading diaries & dissecting poems 
my thumbs are green now after being house bound
as my indoor plants & herbs, counting each new
root as if i am new mother, not a soon-to-be empty nester
during winter, i cover myself in peat moss &
lock away my thirst & my thirsty roots
my affirmation is spring, my music is summer
i want to join a sisterhood of chocolate lovers 
i will gladly hug you in a bubbled curtain with latex gloves 

though i have limbered numbers in excel spreadsheets
unmasked, i am sonneteer coaxing beats out of air

Grace @ Begonia Rex

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub:   Meeting The Bar, I am, The First Person Narrative.   Please join us when the pub door opens at 3pm EST.

For today's MTB, compose a poem using “I am…” with a First Person narrative in any part of your verse.  Go experimental and creative with your “I am” poem.

In expressing our “I am” poems, I encourage you to go beyond the usual descriptions of “I am” (a brother, sister, friend, citizen) and go experimental and creative with your “I am” poem. Think inanimate object, animal or groups of animals, planets and inter-galactic travel, streets, cities, plant, tree, or weekday or month or year, or even pandemic terminology.