The Skins We Shed

Few creatures hold the shape of their childhood.

For some, the transition is easy-

A slow stretching of the skin to follow

The slow stretching of the self.

Others

Are more violent.

The ghosts of dead childhoods

Cling to the reeds in the ponds

Tuck themselves under leaves and logs

The frail skeletal remains

Of a form too small

To contain all the potential

Of adulthood.

IMG_2064Frozen moments on the verge of flight

I value the physical touchstones of transition.


For more transitions, physical and otherwise, my fantasy novel, The Guests of Honor, is available here. Its sequel, With Honor Intact, can be found here.

 

 

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