Post by Laura Stone on Dec 16, 2007 21:34:09 GMT -5
When You Fly Away (edits)
“It’s stage 2,
breast cancer...”
She came in November, found
in the narrow crack that ran along
the footpath to your front door;
you took her in, kept her safe from
winter’s breath, fed her; while
you watched, she grew.
You didn’t notice at first; you were tired,
but like the woolly-legged caterpillar
you cared for, the cells growing inside
were finally made known, found
during your morning shower.
You had already scattered all you are;
thrown to the mortal world, your goodness
blossomed into bright orange, fiery red;
You, a light in this life and protector
of all things noble, true, and pure.
When you called me in Baltimore,
asked for me to call you back,
I knew; knew the news was bad,
knew I didn’t want to hear it;
not about you; but like the light
you always are, you told me
not to worry; it was a new journey.
Two days ago, the surgeon transformed
the body you carried; two days ago,
the Monarch cracked the hard shell
that had kept her safe; bright orange,
black wings fluttered ready for flight,
the obscene gone; you both flew away.
“It’s stage 2,
breast cancer...”
She came in November, found
in the narrow crack that ran along
the footpath to your front door;
you took her in, kept her safe from
winter’s breath, fed her; while
you watched, she grew.
You didn’t notice at first; you were tired,
but like the woolly-legged caterpillar
you cared for, the cells growing inside
were finally made known, found
during your morning shower.
You had already scattered all you are;
thrown to the mortal world, your goodness
blossomed into bright orange, fiery red;
You, a light in this life and protector
of all things noble, true, and pure.
When you called me in Baltimore,
asked for me to call you back,
I knew; knew the news was bad,
knew I didn’t want to hear it;
not about you; but like the light
you always are, you told me
not to worry; it was a new journey.
Two days ago, the surgeon transformed
the body you carried; two days ago,
the Monarch cracked the hard shell
that had kept her safe; bright orange,
black wings fluttered ready for flight,
the obscene gone; you both flew away.
