Not the Same
When you climb
out of a black well
you are not the same
you come to
in the blue air
with a long sore scar
circling your chest
like the shoreline
of a deep new sea
your hands are webbed
inviting you
to trust yourself
in water stranger
and wilder
than you’ve ever known
your heart has a kick
your eyes have
a different bite
you have emerged
from some dark wonder
you can’t explain
you are not the same
–Dorothy Porter
(From The Bee Hut, Black Inc. 2009.)
