These days she’s pressing Post-It notes into the pages
of her granddaughter’s old diary.
Leaving last words & wishes where nobody
will think to find them yet.
Fighting for permanence as tumors press
& beckon her to write from her bowels.
Imagine – a quiet nurse who never knew
She had so much to ink.
These days she’s talking about the places she’s been.
The resort in Mexico with the big pool
where John snuck drugs across the border.
Germany with the baby & her drunk
ex-husband. Austria with Mom in the 90s.
The campground after her first round
just to circle the golf cart.
These days she’s trying no-carb diets, Turmeric,
Vitamin B12 & B14 — a war bride bombing &
bleeding when she pees. Visiting shrines.
Talking to her sister. Thinking about the weight
Carol lost in the end & the six little kids crying
by the bed. Thinking ‘bout her brothers —
how they always drown their pain in booze,
& herself, for the first time.