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Salamander

by Robert Pierre Tomas

Four years. Two elbows. Two knees.
Two pockets, forever wiggling and alive.
As the "quieter" of my father's children
I was never up to much.


Just those four years, and the wind
In my ears. Just those two elbows,
Forever bruised. Just those two knees
Always bleeding or scabbed.


Just those two pockets, full of monsters.
Crickets, perfect for my sister's pillow.
Mice, more scared than my Gran, peeling
Potatoes in the cellar.


AND THE SALAMANDER.


It was not pretty. Or rather was in a
Creepy sort of way. Black and slimy, with
The bright yellow patches of poisonous
Skin. So soft a skin.


I could not hold it any other way, only
By its tail. Upside down. Struggling to
Break free. Breaking free, breaking away.
Breaking off its tail.


I did not want to hurt it. I did not know it
Was so delicate. I did not know its tail
Would break. I did not know it was a
SALAMANDER.


Only four years and so much pain.
Only two eyes and so many tears.
Only one mouth and yet so much
crying.


FOR THE BROKEN SALAMANER.


Dad knows all. He knows, how to
Heal it. He knows, how to glue the
Tail back. Clutched in a small fist,
The tail still moving.


THE SALAMANDER LOST IN GRASS.


Dad knows all. He knew the salamander.
And its bag of tricks. Dad was the college
Graduate. He could spell the big words-
like "regeneration".


So the salamander fooled me. No wonder
My four years versus the evolution's millions.
So it will grow back its tail. Until we meet again.
Me, and the salamander.


I wish I could meet it now, some three decades
Later. I would ask just one question. Why my
Wounds do not heal. Why there is always
A phantom pain.


OF ABSENCE.


Why are the scabs so fragile, why the scars
So tender to touch. Sensitive even to the
Caress of fleeting memories. Why am I so
UN-SALAMANDER.


I dreamt of you last night. I am not a salamander.
The scars on my soul are hurting all over.

Robert Pierre Tomas is a Toronto broadcaster and writer. He writes poetry and fiction in English, his third (or fourth) language. Currently he is writing his second novel, "The Swimming Grass," under the tutorship of D.M. Thomas through the Humber School of Writers program.

 

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The Danforth Review is produced in Toronto, Ontario, Canada. All content is copyright of its creator and cannot be copied, printed, or downloaded without the consent of its creator. The Danforth Review is edited by Michael Bryson. Poetry Editors are Geoff Cook and Shane Neilson. Reviews Editors are Anthony Metivier (fiction) and Erin Gouthro (poetry). TDR alumnus officio: K.I. Press. All views expressed are those of the writer only. International submissions are encouraged. The Danforth Review is archived in the National Library of Canada. ISSN 1494-6114. 

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