which is covered over
like skin over a wound
by all of us
talking at once.
Some of us are pink and
shiny and still.
I feel sort of a return to form with this one, I think partly because it was formed partly by cutting words out, which I've said about some earlier poems.
The first line read, "We do pass through." Though I think those first two lines together formed the basis for the poem, "pass through" had to go because I don't think I really believe we pass through certain tragedies. The poem is, more than anything, my thoughts about going to a support group, which are complicated. But the results aren't pessimistic - the final stanza is ambiguous. It describes either a wound or a healed scar. It also makes me think of babies, which seems pretty optimistic.
The final line was, "shiny and still talking." Which, again, I liked on first thinking of it. But "still" by itself works on so many more levels. I hope it invites the reader to imagine another word following it. It also just means 'persisting,' as if we're just continuing to be here. It also, I think, means 'not talking,' which makes the final stanza seem as if it might be in contrast with the rest of the poem. What if some of us aren't able to heal?
I've never named a poem after the first line before. I just came up with the title for this post, but I thought it worked.