Forensic Truth

© 1994 Richard Fein
All rights reserved.

Factually it's wrong.
The error probably arose from a misperception,
a sloppy unscientific observation,
but myths die hard, unlike flesh.
Perhaps the myth was born from a desperate hope
that within a stilled finger remains a spark
awaiting rekindling by a magical breath
which somehow will again rage as a fire and rouge an ashen face,
or perhaps the myth is simply a failure to let go.
But no cabal of life rests on the nail bed,
no last holdout of the animate hides within a cuticle,
no spark flares to an eternal flame,
at least no corporeal spark,
not a growing but a shriveling.
The nail itself is lifeless and always was.
The illusion springs from the surrounding flesh,
it simply dehydrates, wrinkles, peels away,
the fold of tissue relaxes its grip.
The nail remains staid and stoic,
and as unyielding and palpable as rigor mortis.
The flesh is cold to the touch.
No skeleton finger points the way up or down.
Those seeking myths of eternity from the tangible will be disappointed.
For death will always do what it's meant to do,
survive the living.

Back to top of page