Poetry
The Last Cut
You defined me with care like a circle
of steel
Cut from metal sheet, a matrix of feelings,
While I, all the while screamed.
Not until the last cut was made did
I understand
The fearless compassion which guided your hand.
In pain I felt the bounding line cutting through Endless streams of time
Separating me from past and mother
Giving me freedom to be no other.
© Sophie Brown August 2002