Something Sanguine

Scarlet cloak

ripped from my neck

left a trail—

something sanguine

on my neck.

 

Heel bruiséd

scarlet, a little

something sanguine pooling

by the struck.

 

(me) Leaving, the

scarlet gave a tug—

its own volition—

 

My heels! faster!

run from a

volitional tug

tracing something sanguine

as it followed.

 

Then my ears made my hands

reach back,

my nails almost grasp,

the scarlet.

 

Then the white

drifted slowly, touched

something sanguine—

under my nail.

 

My hand left the tilt and

back to my sides and

my eyes they did eye

something sanguine die.

 

And the tug, seeméd slower,

and the cloak, something gentler,

and the white came down from

The SKY.

 

Two steps back

and scarlet wasn’t

anything menacing more.

 

Then it came and

it came, the snow, not the rain.

it came and it came,

there it came and it came.

 

And my walk wasn’t wary—

my steps simple.

And scarlet’s gone at the

advent of spring, nothing

sanguine there—

but anon.

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