Poetry

Carapace

Whose fault is it
I struggle
to rip out
the metal cage
of childhood fear
that grew around
my hopeful heart

Its metal mail
nearly absorbed
cripples the pump
capacity to my brain
and crumbled
rusty habits of feeling
battle to remain

I falter
rushing ahead
when talking
corrosion disconnects
gray matter
from my ever
too quick tongue

Skin transformed
to armor
crushes my backbone
with perambulation
clearly unpredictable
I list a little
when walking

The doctors say
I need more iron
But that is suicide
My heart still loves
inside its prison
“Its inside is bigger
than its outside”

 

Edited Carrie, Grandma & Me

(Top photo of eastern box turtle by Casey Greider; bottom photo of my sister and me with my grandmother in front of the county children’s home)

 

Standard
Poetry

Special Thanks

Clanmother has very graciously included my poem titled Sleight┬áin her Sunday Evening Reflection with her lovely video and outstanding photography. Rebecca’s reading evokes, even for me, those unforgettable moments spent in my little park.

Thank you, Lady Budd, for all your inspiration and support within our vibrant online community, which reminds one another daily that beauty and the arts are essential to life.

Sunday Evening Reflection with Mary Jo Malo

Standard