Scarred Triolobite

[summer_jackel]

We wear our scars
quietly; they become part of us, worn and lived with
but they are telling.

I heard of a scar
The ghost of imperfection on a trilobite's shell
five hundred million years ago.
That a mark should stay so long
telling of a thing and how it lived
and what chewed on it---

The seas changed, the lands moved
the animal gone;
the scars remain. They will.