Consumed
I
listened intently to a person
Describing
to me a tumor
That
had grown inside them
For
who knows how long
And
when they went in for
One
sharpish pain to the doctor
They
were immeadiatly shipped off
To
get it removed because
It
was so very large
I
thought, “How can that be?”
“I
would certainly know if
Something
was growing
On
the inside
Pushing
and covering
What
should work
So
much better.”
But
no, do I know
If
something is growing
Gaining
ground while it grows?
Or
do I look down one day
Discovering
that gained twenty pounds
Wondering
how it got there overnight?
I
know it wasn’t overnight,
But
it sure seems like it
Is
that how evil engulfs us?
From
the inside,
Silently
growing
From
a slight sarcasm
To
brash rudeness
To
accosting people verbally
And
pushing them down
to
killing them with word and deed?
No
matter that we are not
Familiar
with them
Or
their circumstances
Or
beliefs or anything really
We
have gone to knowing
To
allowing this growth
To
dictate how we function
Because
it has taken over
Our
vital organ
Our
hearts
Pouring Out the Power
“Brandy
wine,” she said
“My
mother only sipped it once,
But
that is all it took to
Call
me after it.”
I
didn’t know if to believe
This
toothless wizened
Slip
of a woman
Who’s
laugh was a cackle
Cracking
her cheeks
With
a laugh smile
That
broke through the clouds
Of
my gloom as a child
I
remember her smell
Was
minty and scrubbed salt
With
a hint of rubbing alcohol
Like
every morning she was
Rubbed
down in the stuff
Like
a prize fighter
After
a hard few rounds
But
no she believed
It
would keep her skin
Clean
and safe from
Anything
that would
Want
to stay with her
And
cause her harm
She
scrubbed herself
Whole
again it seemed
She’d
pass me a butter mint
Stolen
from a recent wedding
Of
her hundred children
Grandchildren,
nieces, and nephews
All
adopted on these steps
The
front porch where she told me
And
other children that clattered in and out,
The
stories of her origin and her name
And
I would drink it up
Toasting
Miss Brandy.
With
her kind eyes,
That
crinkled at the corners
Squinting
so hard
To
see what I needed
Without
a word she’d be talking
And
hand me cold water
Or
on a hot day a frozen banana,
She
taught me to light a stove in the winter
And
I’d go home Smokey
Like
I’d been camping
Enjoying
the smell that
Never
was part of my house
At
Easter tide I think of her
As
my amaryllis gets ready to bloom
Big
and full as she was
She
always had one in a pot
Growing
in her kitchen
And
it was an event
Wondering
when it would burst
Into
flower, and she’d crow
That
it was an angel’s umbrella
Made
to cover them
From
the spring storms
“It
is shaped like a trumpet see?”,
She’d
point out
Tracing
the blossom
with
her shaking hand
“These
flowers stood at Jesus’ grave,
To
proclaim his resurrection.
They
are trumpets that cannot be silenced!”
She
stood by her flower marveling
In
the beauty of it all.
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