The Scar
- The Scar
It is true the Godcame to mein the rain.Even my heart,a punk fruit,a bruised wound."There is a balm," He said."A soft soap,the shade of boiled egg."
My offering was small:a dog's tooth, a foxglove root,a stone the shape of woman.Only in dreamsI found a flask of wine,a goat roasted in twine,medicine for what ails Him.
It is true He is not wellfor the Devilbound and gagged Him.Starved Him like a penitent.His face is the shadeof old moonand He has not shaved:a shadow of blues. [End Page 119]
We lay together.Our hair wildand damp as leaves.He touched the moleon my cheek."Sacrifice this," He said."Make a scarlike a cross.Anoint it.Keep it clean." [End Page 120]
April Bulmer is an award-winning Canadian poet who has had six books of poetry published. She holds three master's degrees, in creative writing (Concordia), religious studies (Windsor), and theological studies (Trinity, Toronto School of Theology). Many of her poems focus on women's spirituality. Her most recent collection, Women of the Cloth, will be published in 2012. She was born and raised in Toronto, but now lives in the small city of Cambridge, Ontario. [aprilb@golden.net]
