Vic Swan

Resurrection

a black snake streaks
through draught dry grass
a slither zip getaway
from my dark shadow.

today a white
empty skin remains
in the brown weeds,
a delicate 'S' weave
white, paper thin
pattern from tail tip
to eye sockets
in one elegant curve.

i envy any creature
that can shed whole skin
emerging brand renewed
while i become
less graceful
by the day
my scars gather
on wrinkled skin
brittle and thin
and unshed must be worn
like rags to fly
as battle flags
of the losing side
in a civil war.


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