On The Mend

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Wounds can heal, time guarantees,
the bleeding stops, the sting subsides.
Delicate stitches knit the seam closed,
until a scar remains, crooked tattoo.

The pain stays hidden, perfect facade,
often ignored but never forgotten.
Without a salve or primal scream,
left alone it grows and grows.

One final straw, the wound rips open
raw and exposed to unforgiving air.
Shivering cold, broken spine,
time can’t help, stitches unwind

Raindrops fall and clean the cut,
branches reach out, offer a crutch
Fluttering feathers, fragile cocoon,
nature’s Spring needle, work begins

The Northwoods, near Land O’Lakes, Wisconsin
Photo by: c.b.w. 2013

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c.b.w. 2013

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