One down - and twenty-nine to go. I have a feeling this is going to be tough...
A Scar on the Landscape
If I am your claim,
then let it be known
that all my wealth is robbed:
my diamond pain
that gleams and cuts,
my lustrous opal tears;
my heart's remains -
pearls of grief
and rubies like
brilliant clots -
even these
are plundered away
from the grasp
of my granite seams.
If I am your claim,
then let it be known
that my veins
are stripped
of their jewels;
my nuggets of hope
are ground to dust,
my sapphire sighs long past.
My emeralds all
have been cast away
and the last of my silver spent.
If I am your claim,
then close me up;
let new grass grow
and heal.
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