The Way the Weary World Heals

By Stephen Mead

During shelling bodies rain, flood,

become dikes.

The siege seems epidemic.

Is it still the same war?

Water gurgles voices, bears meaning, drizzles up

as fog & the fog

forms blocks.

Touch lips: an adrift ravaged,

record. Fish

the surface:

Mouth to mouth, that child

dying ... bullets ... quicksilver  ripples

skipping ... an explosion...

So, shrapnel, the scattered returns :                

ether …tissues…memory's raw astonished moon ...

severed cypresses

grafted, bothering---

Why the hell? Because:

human, each soul asking,

healing is nature.

Stephen Mead is an Outsider multi-media artist and writer.  Since the 1990s he’s been grateful to many editors for publishing his work in print zines and eventually online.  Recently his work has appeared in CROW NAME, WORDPEACE and DuckDuckMongoose. Currently he is resident artist/curator for The Chroma Museum, artistic renderings of LGBTQI historical figures, organizations and allies predominantly before Stonewall, The Chroma Museum - The Chroma Museum (weebly.com)