Parable

This mark welded with my skin
Speaks of the night I burnt myself
In the past, I’d be scalded:
Hot soups, frying oil, steam
From kettle spouts; and blistered
By iron and ovens. Stainless
Steel on gas; in second heat
Invaded skin when my arm,
Forgetting grazed wok’s rim
Tho wound stretched, red-brown like beef
Slivers sizzling in oyster sance

I’d rubbed ice to cool it down
To stop blister forming,
Healed to elliptic scar, a gem
Without encircling bracelet sits,
Dead centre, 5 cm. above right wrist,
An amulet to wear, topaz
To seal forgotten heat
Some lesson ought to be drawn from this
Yet other scar succeed, from slips
And falls that trip and spurn – always
I forget the searing burns

scar