I look back at
her unsuspecting face
So busy
A buzzing bee
Tending her garden
Spreading pollen
To help everything grow
Except herself
So worried
A dust devil
Never stopping
Ever whirling
To hide from the dark
Where her tears fell cold
And dimmed the stars
It’s been four years since
The cells filled me with fear
The medicine sent me spiraling into
A forever rest
A couch nest
A foggy mess
She doesn’t know how good it will be
After the cutting
The poisoning
The burning
Is through
In the years since
Ive spent orbiting the sun
and caressing my scars
I have reassured her
The busy, buzzing self
The one who hid so well
That it is ok
It is fine
It is good
To spend more time
by the windowsill
Fresh air brushes my cheek
A gentle pat of the cat’s tail
Falls in sync with my heart
I don’t bother to hide from myself now
Instead I kiss my salty skin
and lean into the night
These words and images are the property of the poet, Sharon Frances.
Do not use in part or whole without permission.