In sunshine
brown flesh pours on grass,
nourishing soil
for the goldenrod
to resurrect in fall.
Bodily eruptions
make life’s faint worries
dissolve to the ground.
Memories hoard lust
in separate mounds
as sin’s disfigured shadow
twists in torment
beneath the crust.
Coarse hair coils
between green blades
then mashes leisurely
into wet earth
as warm blood
shades white stones
and quivering muscles
lose themselves in the rhythm
of bones crackling to ash.
I am nothing. I
no longer can be found.
Shawn Regina Jones
reprinted from
“Womb Rain” (Finishing Line Press)
Womb Rain can be purchased at: