Kidneys

The shyest of organs, kidneys hidebehind the peritoneumand do not join in abdominal rumblings.Blood flows through, creamy and thick, a velvet red.After a whirlwind of sifting and sorting,a storm of charged ions switching places,what leaves is watery and weak, reeking of rejection.The kidneys are completely without glamor.In their drab retro-peritoneal closetthey will never beat with valor like the heart,never give wind to songs like the lungs,never compose sonnets like the brain.Working silently backstage, they plumb away,unheralded for crafting our foul, vital wastesimply because it is hard to love a drain.

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