This forest in May. It haunts my whole life;
I climb a low-hanging branch, scrap wet moss
across my thigh. Bark peels under my fingernails,
embeds in my skin, and I bite out each splinter,
blood dribbling on my tastebuds, smeared across
my bottom lip, around my mouth; I extend my
tongue to the tip of my nose — war paint for
the angels — climbing higher to the floor of the
clouds. The crows call to black wings that slit
open my shoulder blades, enclose around sun
in solar eclipse, casting shadows on earth below.


frapalymo#frapalymo (the German version of NaPoWriMo) is hosted by FrauPaulchen and translated from German into English by Bee at Just Fooling Around With Bee. Today’s prompt is the first line from Tomas Transtromer’s poem, Alcaic“This forest in May. It haunts my whole life.”

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