Serpentine - Chris Bathgate

A long stone and my day’s all serpentine

The tired tarnish in my chest rests sense of SARS

And one dull dawn where they hum that splits its length

Does my name sting your tongue?

Now does it beg?

Your thin frame has set my eyes to fray

On our dim stretch of this street, how it aches

For every grey and sad and taut to coil

And our frail eyes and there watch to finally talk

One brash phrase cut crush these fragile days

My thoughts swirl in some shrill sad cannonade

And one such spur that caused my throat to creak

The one dull dawn that I’ve since sensed to repeat