Heart Happy (cathy_edgett) wrote,
Heart Happy

Diana Rothman

I realize the three poems of Diana Rothman need to go together.    Here they are, an outflow of her cancer journey.

December 1997

The night I got the call
to begin the journey,
I was afraid I'd disappear down
corridors of closing doors, afraid
I'd never hear trees talking softly,
or have a conversation with the wind again.
I packed my bags with "no more,"
"perhaps" and "maybe not,"
ready to leave life as it was forever.

Could I have known the secret then:
that cancer calls me here --
and not away -- to walk my life?

August 1998

Yesterday, still as death,
young dragonflies hung
on manzanita branches,
energy focused in to turn
their crumpled tissue
into wings that knew already
how to fly.
When my year of treatment ends,
and I push through the prison
of this life and hang, exposed
and new, will I remember how
my hairless larval self
grew wings within its shell?

November 1998

When we picked persimmons
off the tree,
handling each orange globe
as if it were a sun,
leaves around your head
made a golden halo,
sky bluer than blue,
and we knew that soon
wind would scatter leaves,
bare tree'd stand naked
against grey sky,
and this golden ripening time
would leave us too.
Later, when you asked
what made me happy,
and I said "picking persimmons,"
you seemed surprised, and I
had no words to say how
whole and sweet these moments are
before the ripe fruit falls.
            by Diana Rothman


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