Splinters

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SPLINTERS



You’re not alone. All of us pick up one

somewhere in these tall grasses 

we wander through, scratching us


like a bur beneath a pant leg 

or the proverbial pebble at the sole

of things. Regardless how beautiful the view


we’re making for, how grateful

we are—don’t get us wrong—to be

trekking toward the precipice 


in the company of friends, still,

that bit of dust in your eyeball

makes no amends. In theory, 


it's the one thing between you

and a really lovely stroll through

unmowed existence. In theory, 


were there a good, flat rock to rest on 

and some time to boot, you could 

begin unlacing the layers to uncover


the root of this chafing and clip it 

like a hangnail. But don’t hang

your hat on it. If such nagging


delusions have begun to set in, 

the source of the infection has long

since sunk beneath the skin.


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