I began writing this poem some years ago after my first duet with cancer. I have played around with it over the years, as one does, and here is its current incarnation. I wrote it for my granddaughter, Abbie Marie, who works in this area, and I dedicate it to everyone who has/is having this experience…

Linear One

(For Abbie Marie)

Sing, girl, sing – over there is a smiling mask
for sad days, a solemn one for happy nights.
Wear them for all occasions, wear them for fun.

Sing of the large dome, its measured descent, hands
stretched to grasp yours, of voices – soft, the light
of the shadow that lingers at the far end of the room.

Sing about death and faith and blood and the pathway
along which the full moon will come soft-slippered,
sip red-lipped wine from a bowl of thin glass.

Sing as you contemplate the masks that come and go
one for this, one for that. Give someone a mask and
they’ll tell the truth? In this room, songs will do.

Renée