The eleventh of a series of twelve written at a shuttered window. Originally published in the anthology Terra Firma.
Witness the blade’s completed arc,
or hailstones brought to earth,
acts refined and balanced in delivery,
the results, specious. The sweet
onion, too, relies on caution, but once
halved loses the attractive measure of
entirety, the unseen grace exposed,
reverting to a core, and deeper,
within the layered heart, laid to rest.
That it may end, and in return, begin anew.