Ann V. DeVilbiss Beginning

First day,

new year, and the world is noisy,

sun-touched.

The sky

sends down a chill wind, to keep me

moving.

I am

a shade and a body, sewn together

by witchcraft.

The staircase

and the wrong choices, the rowdy pull

of danger:

the whiskey and the devil

in collusion, raw whispers deciding how

to mark me.

Pain like

electric needle pins wired straight

to the bone, then

the wound,

and the dull insult of hurt around

the red hole.

When

I met sorrow, I did the best I could,

breathing.

A hound

with all its teeth is lucky, and alike dogs

flock together.

See me

loosed from the tethers of regret,

see how I rise.


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