Obituary
Gently, I close the page,
fold the paper in half,
smoothing wrinkles, avoiding
creases as if it were the sheet
I’ve pulled up to your chin
over your shoulders, spreading
carefully across arms and legs
nearly every day for a year.
I can almost imagine you here,
your still warm smile saying
what disease no longer allows you
to say, your eyes’ blue
still shining the love you shared
with everyone. Grandmother,
mother, wife, friend,
the only titles you aspired to,
the only ones that matter.
These words, my words,
survived by, worked, lived,
can do nothing to keep you,
nothing to calm the churning
loss inside, nothing
but bring it home to stay.
Following Suit
Creatures of imitation become
habit, get in line,
wait your turn, only
speak when spoken to.
Even the numbering of days
not enough to shake us
out of conformity’s comfort,
civility of naïve patience.
Even rebellion amounts
to little more than being
like all the other rebels,
hat askew, nipple pierced,
chewing vulgarity like gum
in the mouth of a teenaged girl.
Author of 6 collections of poetry and over 600 poems published in journals and anthologies, SCOTT OWENS is editor of Wild Goose Poetry Review, Vice President of the Poetry Council of North Carolina, and recipient of awards from the Pushcart Prize Anthology, the Academy of American Poets, the NC Writers’ Network, the NC Poetry Society, and the Poetry Society of SC. He holds an MFA from UNC Greensboro and currently teaches at Catawba Valley Community College. Visit him at www.scottowenspoet.com
