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June 2022
Mary McCarthy
mmccarthy161@gmail.com
Bio Note: I am a retired Registered Nurse who has always been a writer. My work has appeared in many anthologies and journals, including The Ekphrastic World, edited by Lorette Luzajic. The Plague Papers, edited by Robbi Nester, and the latest issues of Third Wednesday.

Author's Note: These poems reflect different fractions of experience that seem to shift and change like the glass in a kaleidoscope, sometimes sad and unruly, sometimes surprised by joy. Sometimes I think I can make sense of all of it, even if piece by piece.

Remainders

With your last uneasy breath
the scale of distance
between us
grows to infinity
a ratio impossible
to understand
a separation
no touch can breach
no arm encompass
leaving me baffled
and alone
without a map
reliable enough
for comfort
grief threading 
every thought
forgetting you
as impossible
as weeding out
sweet peppermint
from a garden
where it spread
unchecked
and even the roots
sifted through by hand
carry your scent
                        

If Only

I could get my thoughts
to behave
to sit neat and quiet
like school children
in rows of wooden desks

but they won’t be still
they won’t obey
any but their own
restless inclinations

running their baroque
agendas
pulling rabbits out of
imaginary hats
dangling from high wires
without a net
teasing the lions
until they jump
through hoops of fire

giddy with the thrill of risk
they push me past
the reach of sleep
into exhaustion
this gray world
where there is
no light
no heat
nothing 
to breathe
nothing to eat 
but ash
                        

At My First Pow Wow

When the Aztec dancers
took the grass circle
their splendor unhinged my jaw
and I stood empty
a fool with mouth agape
as my soul flew out
to meet the face
of the jaguar
fierce center
of a radiant
nimbus of feathers
crowning the dancer
with a halo bright and dangerous
as the sun’s corona
in a full eclipse

And together we danced
hearts beating hard
with the drums
our strength and beauty
grave and perfect
as Jaguar dancing
behind the mask
                        
©2022 Mary McCarthy
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
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