The Sand Hill Review               http://www.sandhillreview.org              2009

 

 

 

 

Convalescence

 

How to find words for the dimmed blue halls,

the pillowed footfall of night nurses, caps

like white moths floating above the faint

cries, the trays of serum-filled syringes—

a stick and then a burn—dividing the night

like pie and days the same, only brighter?

How to catch in the mind’s eye the moth

on the folding screen, wings spread wide

 

like a book splayed on a tray? Grandmother said

a moth in a room meant the shadow of death

was near. Gray against white hovered, loomed.

She decided then to remember everything,

even the taste of rust that bloomed on her tongue.

This was how she knew she was alive.

 

Angela Narcisco Torres