Unguent

Inch by inch in season’s swinging purgatory.
Figuring paths thru on the sails of a story.

I take a note of this & elements of that.
Hair of the dog that bit you & wing of a bat.

Turn up the sous vide in iron basins of milk.
A letter from the sole of a heart you have bilked.

Dash of turmeric, ginger, black cohosh & dong.
Stirring & folding pieces…not clockwise, clockwrong.

All in aide of an ointment for conjoining parts.
Each of my joints is now a complaining old fart.