Think x-ray Think needle
Think inject poison at cell
Think into cancer not about cancer
Gray matter looks benign until you sliver a piece away and
lungs stop inhaling
Stems penetrate square centimeters of stolen earth so
petals can broadcast spectral
When Golden Eagle seeks refuge under Bald Eagle’s wing
shelter becomes cage
We’ll know when the end is near
It won’t be the world in a hand basket or
a chorus of robed angels descending
but a drain of paralyzed water
refusing to swirl left or right
refusing to swallow down
one more bloody drop
–
Cyndie Randall holds a B.A. in creative writing/poetry and an M.A. in counseling. Her words have appeared or are forthcoming in Love’s Executive Order, Okay Donkey, Kissing Dynamite, Ghost City Review, Yes Poetry, Boston Accent Lit, Barren Magazine, and elsewhere. Cyndie works as a therapist and lives among the Great Lakes.