Betsy Robin Schwartz

Every time the wind shakes down rain

I expect a fifty foot pin oak to crash through the roof.

It happened before…

The tree's not here any more.

It took months of chain saws and seed,

but finally there is no trace.

Grass has grown on the mound

where there were upturned/excavated roots.

It's like that with Judy…

fearless with broken bones she knew would heal

but a terror of true mammograms.

Mother, stepmother, now her.

The good post operative news:

only in the milk ducts, no chemo,

no radiation, months of reconstruction

from nursing to nursed.

I'm told after a while, you don't miss the

ghosts of shade and cautiously welcome the sun.