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December 2022
Maryann Hurtt
mhurttds@excel.net / maryannhurtt.com
Bio Note: I find myself feeling melancholy in fall-ending, winter-beginning—such intense light changing to long darkness—but I also savor the contrasts in how everything seems to circle. I was a hospice RN most of my working life and listened to a thousand stories as folks shared their fading light. Once Upon a Tar Creek Mining for Voices (Turning Plow Press) came out in 2021.

Even Dead Fish Become Roses

she remembers in her last days
as cancer slips through a back door
trying to steal whatever
was good
but memories sustain her
of a time relishing
second chance lust
even love

and how she and her man
lay on Onion River’s bank 
joining muck and grit
with unexpected kisses
then rolling on to the carcass
of a stinky dead fish

an explosion of guts
and almost pee in your pants laughter
taking too many mean years
into something so sweet
even dead fish become roses
a way she learned
and would never forget
to love the flower
and the bramble
                        

Driving by the Lutheran School Blues

I don’t know your name
and maybe you are just fine
but your dangling legs dragging
in swing set sand
a crowd of other kids
on the other side of recess
make me ache
I understand alone and lonely
are two different worlds
but your face is tucked deep
in an oversized hat
and I will never know where
you find home
but right now my old body
wants to swing myself
next to you
possibly remember how to double swing
in this sometime
way too mean world waiting
for a few true hearts
                        
©2022 Maryann Hurtt
Editor's Note: If this poem(s) moves you please consider writing to the author (email address above) to say what it is about the poem you like. Writing to the author is what builds the community at Verse Virtual. It is very important. -JL