"Purple"

In honor of National Poetry Month, I am posting work by myself each Friday; here is "Purple," a recent piece from a series of color poems.

Purple

His body, an atlas, a map
of all the impacts,
a record of each elbow,
fist, boot, rock,
physically altered but
secretly touched by god.
They never knew each blow, each
break infused him with more and more
knowledge, grace,
compassion. Yet each one
a not-forgetting.

Now, no more bruises,
the purple has faded,
no more pain,
just smiling
and laughing
and dancing
and swaying, he can feel
his arms, his legs
dancing,
just…
dancing.

©JEF