One Part Invention

 
The earth leans,
the waves rise up,
the raindrops fall,
the snow piles.

We feel nature's complexity
and reassurance in
steady Bach measures;
the perfect interweaving
of chordal harmonies
fortify our spirit.

Patterns ever changing,
while repeating,
calm and comfort us
with the same warmth
and reassurance
as the kitchen table,
a baking apple strudel.

Our spirits lift.
We forge ahead.

(c) Gay Reiser Cannon * All Rights Reserved * 2.28.15

Losses

She looked at the spot on her arm.

She still referred to them as freckles.

Raised, turning purple,

another little cancer.

Another little thing to have removed

before it could become a large living entity--

attached yet separate from her.

Her life seemed

a series of excised entities,

now remembered as discarded tissues.

So many had come and gone.

She tried to keep emotionless;

had sublimated those resentments, 

those what-ifs.

Once she was without blemish;

but, she loved badly and her parents disapproved.

It was so long ago they took that little bit away,

the one that would have been a boy.

She was given no choice.

Thinking, as she considered the growing puffy freckle,

which one of these removals would destroy her.

© Gay Reiser Cannon * All Rights Reserved