Even if you’re not yet in focus, this is for you:
Are you fierce enough to fall with a startled
Tree, to curl then inward, unleafing in the rain, to
Lie silently devoted to a dark thrumming forest,
Derailing itself one grove at a time?
Are you strong enough to follow the
Black ant’s trail, mining that tree inwardly,
Bite by bite, creating its cottage industry with a
pointed mountain of soft dust?
I know because I saw you fall; first when your
Marriage toppled, then when you had to stitch
Your breast back on with a pink ribbon tied to your
Shirt and ridiculous pink laces threaded in your shoes.
All the while, you kept a noisy gong going with
Sticks of wood and all that pressing
Downward and inward until you were
Strong and cocooned in winter’s first snow.
You did. I saw you.
Now here I am on the occasion of my own falling,
Shuddering into the names of diseases that
Sink me into bed and hide me away from the
Mirror, not yet ready for ribbons, pink or otherwise.
I’m still leafing through medical pages, still feeling
The bite of needles, still watching the stitches mend.
The forest is a long way off and I can’t hear the
Tumbling trees; only my voice calling,
here i am. here i am. I’m the moon!