In order to view this poem as the author intended it to appear, we suggest reading it on a computer screen or in the landscape orientation on your phone.

To My Blood
Carol L. Gloor

You stream freely
when I slip
and cut my scalp,
you I haven’t seen much of
for thirty years.
Sudden red on the floor,
on my hands,
on the cold cloth
I hold to my head
to clot you
and you obediently stop.
You flow out
anywhere my body is cut
and are always silently
carrying food and oxygen
to my cells
through secret rivers
of arteries to capillaries,
to veins and back again.
Sweet crimson friend,
old friend who was there
before I was.

—
Carol L. Gloor has been writing, mostly poetry, for sixty years. Her work has appeared in many hard copy and online journals, most recently in East on Central and AJI Magazine. Her poetry chapbook, Assisted Living, was published by Finishing Line Press in 2013, and her full-length poetry collection, Falling Back, was published by Word Poetry in 2018.

Know anyone who might appreciate reading Carol’s poem?
Why not share the link to this page?

Have you read these poems:
Firing Squad by Fran Schumer
Easter Sunday by William Teets

Table of Contents