We return to the beginning, stripped
of our knowledge and rank, bound in white:
a shroud, a swaddling blanket, a bride’s veil,
a drawer stuffed full of rags and bandages.
Trussed up in white and left naked by fear.
The brutal say I don’t learn anything —
that’s why I no longer seek the brutal
as teachers, their blood my blood, their hiss
and spit so familial. Let gentleness
teach me these most difficult lessons
that I must begin again, without rank
or honor to learn a gentle way.
Or perhaps it is the easiest
of tasks: drop your knowledge, begin again
a blank page awaiting a love song —
by WHITECATGROVE
© All rights reserved 2024

Poignant and wise.
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I couldn’t agree more, Dolly!
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😻
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Truth and beauty.
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Agreed, Camilla.
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This has a lovely, dignified tone to the poem. Very well written.
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Yes, I really enjoyed the quality of this poem too. Thanks for reading, Tash!
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For better or worse a fresh start is humbling.
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It certainly can be!
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