my lizard sheds her old skin
and comes out bright and renewed;
she consumes her dead self
to nourish the one she has become,
and the past is a thing to be discarded
like an old coat worn through to the wind

beautiful

once, her shed stuck round her eyes
and every shed after grew thick
til she was blind, infected and starving;
but we worked on her with love
and a ready, steady hand of care
until one day the scales fell away
and she could see.

i know so many,
the blind and infected people,
they roam the world around us
unable to shed their old ideas,
walking like death
while their eyes close up
like the myopic moles they are
digging into the grave-dark earth
to keep their views safe and sound
beneath their desecated bones.