thorn
the wound
doesn’t bleed
but the rosebud
embedded
its armor
it throbs
she sucks her thumb
then locates a needle
cures it in spirits
bites on her lip
and digs
the whole thorn
needs to come out
or will fester
so it is with
misunderstanding
knife deep
but with care
the full root
must be plucked
or else it regrows
and could claim her
2022 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.
the heart of the matter 
I love this one. It has rhythm. And anyone who has had the experience of pulling out a thorn can relate. But then it gets to the third verse and the real meaning. Excellent! XO Sylvia
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Thank you Sylvia! This one came out all of piece. I did very little to it afterward.
I appreciate you commenting.
With love, Amrita
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