Wednesday, January 20, 2010

St. Sebastian (patron of athletes and archers)

Who could have guessed that you

could die twice? Left for dead with a

body covered in blood. Red as the first time

you let go, closed your eyes, and let it happen.

Red as the sun through eyelids.

You were thrust toward heaven and then,

as if there was a ribbon tied to your ribs

with an end held tightly between fingers

back on Earth, you fly home. Your skin

shines as if you were the sleekest kind of bird.

So full of arrows. Your body is a pincushion.

Underwater, you are an urchin I swim over nervously.

There’s poison in those quills. One prick of the needle

and I won’t be coming back to life.

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