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Friday, October 14, 2016

Menopausal Poetry Series

Because I love poetry, and there are so few poems about menopause out there, I have dug deep into my computer files and pulled out a series from over ten years ago when I was in the throes of it.

Here's one:



Three little pills and a Pomegranate

Muse on the table
are you food or drink?

Three little pills on my yellow placemat:
One clever red clover
renders me immune to restlessness,
cures insomnia.
Vitamin B mitigates “the change”,
Calcium Citrate coats the nerves,
protects the children from swinging
moods, banged doors.

Biting into a shiny red orb allowed
Persephone to see her mother half the year.
My prying fingers reveal a messy beehive
of oblong kernels.
Mouth puckers as crystal blobs,
nutty & tart, stain my fingers rouge.

Will it make me mortal to eat these seeds?

Already I have become human
in my daughter’s eyes.

I told Katie that her cat died.
Rocking in darkness
comforted us both.





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