Survival.

Looking up and opening out.
Only slightly, but it's a start.
Enough to be going on with.

Still in the shade for now.
The new skin over the raw
wound is flimsy and paper-thin.

Not even the beginnings of
a scar. Not yet. Far too soon.
It will come. One hopes. Eventually.

For now, best not to rush.
The harsh midday light is too
intense. Burning not healing.

The important thing is
that there's a beginning.
An opening. A new chance.

Mez

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