My sister, Teri, is going to read this one at the Heartland Cafe on April 6th.
She wakes and feels this past
lurking beside her,
the ghost that will not fall behind,
She wakes and prays,
whoever is there to hear,
get me through this day,
I’ll not ask for more.
She wakes and dresses
her bits of scattered self,
hauling scarred pieces to
proper places, endlessly preparing.
At the door, she checks for menace
in hallways, scanning streets
for fleshy threats and phantoms,
seeking her whom she always meant to be.
Out the door,
she strides ahead
as if fearless,
limitless and ready.
She arrives feeling
unreckoned power, feeling this day
pregnant with difference, this day
ready, perhaps, for what yesterday was not.