POEM - Splinters

The discomfort it causes

That miniscule bit

That some indignant board

Or insolent thorn

Left inside your skin

A sub dermal torture spike

It can’t be real

So small, so innocent

My eyes water

As I scratch and prod

Gouge and squeeze

To dig the offense out

It astounds me

And it is nothing

A little black exclamation mark

Without its supporting dot

So fragile and frail

I could never reinsert it

But it arrived

And it pained

Regardless of size

I remember a time

I rode through the desert

Slid to a stop

Looked up and felt a bump

I had knocked my head

Against the tip of a joshua tree

Just a little poke

Scratched my head

Rode off care free

Then a few days passed

Noticed the bump wouldn’t shrink

I felt and prodded

Squeezed and pushed

Until suddenly it gave

Popped out a little cone

The very tip of the sharp branch

I had so carelessly bumped

Splinters are funny like that

I think there is a lesson there

Something about pain and relief

The burden of the intruder

And the sweet relief

That only comes

After our pain departs