gangrene settles in Jane’s soft tissue
as the sun remains constant on the narrow horizon
loons call to their wandering mates
frigid air knocks harshly on her wooden door
inside a fire works overtime to keep the heart warm
yellow and blue bruises brush the hands of time
jane rocks quietly in a civil war rocking chair
turmoil resides in her cancerous conscience
ears bleed with agony and despair
scars mark a road map of the unforgiven
morning never touches jane’s sore eyes
destruction is breakfast death is dessert
her swollen feet touch the barren floor
swept only once in a sleepy lifetime
blood clogs jane’s brain with darkness
dreams reside in her empty memories
as fog shrouds a limp forgotten body
