Poem #36

Second First Step

Silently the blade lifts through the static air

Cherry handle turns, as spit on campfire flame

Fingers walking, pacing, around the wood

Racing thoughts pierce the mental chasm

Why this, why then, would they ever know

Knowing is what is more, he breathes deep


Quietly pacing, contemplating thoughts

The books he loved are mindless sheaves

Palm down pressing, so strings won’t hum

In the vacuous cavity, as hollow as his being

Harmonious silence fills his mind, soothing

Feeling his broken body, he breathes deep


Nimbly touching the scars on his skin

His mind races to that ill-fated day,

Young and thriving he rode through fire

Born again, an infant in body, a man in mind

Days pass, he grows, surpassing belief

Walking his second first step, he breathes deep


Raucously writhing, his insides were churned

Bones a many, were broken and sheared

Steadfast and sharp, his mind stood firm

Doctor’s disbelieving, doubting every move

Not to be coddled or babied, he moves on

Strong willed, determined, he breathes deep

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