Travelers Welcome

Travelers Welcome

Thursday, November 4, 2010

Dusting Off The Blood

by A.J. Huffman
Do you love the color
of my hair?
Do you miss it
as it turns?
From red.
                To gold.
                              To black.
You hope for gray.
But that’s not the way I rot.
Conventions --
such as life --
shun me.
I don’t belong in any of their light.
And yet I cannot disappear.
I am the slate of a mistake.
Wash me.
Trace me.
Re-erase me.
I rise again and again.
I am a phoenix of misuse.
I dream of abuse.
Not mine.
It is my desire.
To be the devastation.
Without the fire.
Though this dream too will fade.
In time,
I remain:
a stain. 
And the ash in your mind
is my sin.
You will hear it calling.
Long after night
has claimed my skin.

1 comment:

  1. Poems by A.J. Huffman seem to be popping up all over the Internet like crocuses (or croci?) in Spring. And the more of her work that I read, the more I want to read. Hers is certainly a distinctive voice. Even when her subject matter is harsh, there is music in her lines that is wonderful to hear. Encore!