Poetry of the Body by Constance Bourg

The sun drops and its cooling light
strains for groveling clouds

a tree out front stands with hunched shoulders
evening wind shuddering the leaves

with the grief of the day
a sad susurrus rustle, quieter

than glacier mice
migrating towards the brink

as you trace my skin with a lighter hand
than I thought possible

are you following the gold lacquer scars
that run the length of my body

this liberated body, free from the bark
corset that usually envelops it

a light point floating above us
I inhabit the chasm in a quiet way

longing for the end of even this
longing for the brink to disappear

and the tree to be nothing
more than a tree.

Photo by Felix Mittermeier on Pexels.com

About the Poet:

Constance Bourg lives in the Flemish part of Belgium, where she volunteers at her local library. Her poems have appeared in Rogue Agent, The Poetry Shed, Blanket Sea, The Pink Plastic House anthology and the Emma Press anthology of illness. She also dabbles in collage and is currently working on a book-length erasure poetry and collage project on Tove Jansson’s The Summer Book. She leads a part-time life because of an invisible disability called ME/CFS.

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