Found Wound

in a basement
in the cold,
what does heaven know
that I don't know
about fool's gold
and love?

beneath some sort of sky,
I found my bleeding
by beds and why.

like hard, dark afternoons,
we all want to stay the same,
but we really want to change,
yet we don't know how
or have the tools to do so.

I have a hatchet
and a handkerchief,
still moving.