Tuesday afternoon prompt

heading home from offices
raised up on steel stilts
up up into the sky
beaded by dying light of day
& syrupy time
breathed in, this heavy silt,
sticks to my ribs,
fills my lungs,
film of burnt offering
an old poem
thrown on the pyre
words of rebirth
afterbirth
& me I realize me
it is me; I am the
placenta of the earth
oozing red swollen
chewy with belief
sorrow misuse
now I am a sinking
crooked step off the
curb
torn in the maelstrom
of afternoon commutes
drawn on the backs
of collars and shirts and
others wearing beaten shined
shoes
a bitter Everest-like sunset
& here I pull and heave
here I leave myself
in summer's drawl
a wintry withered husk.