“Onstage the Scottish musicians begin to break the skin of the evening and the music fills the room—mandolin, guitar, fiddle.”
—Colum McCann, from Zoli
It doesn’t matter if it’s shattered
diamonds or glass she sees winking
in fresh snow to carry her home
after dark. This splinter
pain touches her left foot
where the big toe attaches itself
to the sole. Nothing there
but a nagging to remind her
she is no exception. Mortal—
with a limited number of steps, breaths—
she’ll strive to keep them
in unison as long as a splinter
moon allows.
