Her eyes see, what’s left
of her upper lip moves
above permanently bared teeth,
and her reconstructed nose
still breathes—
she is indeed alive.
Her sewn-up face is abstract,
but still a kind of face.
Minus a left arm,
but she has a hook for that.
She’s in the drugstore
with her sister,
and no one screams.
They talk like any sisters.
She buys a small jar of applesauce
and a heating element—
takes out her money
with hand and hook,
refuses a bag—
“Save a tree,” smiles the clerk,
and for a moment,
this woman could be anyone,
not the project of an ambitious surgeon,
not a survivor brought back
from the dead, crouched low
in the passenger seat at the light,
hoping no one will notice.
A California resident and poet for more than 40 years, Cynthia Anderson is the author of 12 books, most recently Arrival (Sheila-Na-Gig Editions, 2023). Her poems have been published widely in journals and anthologies, and she has received multiple nominations for Best of the Net and the Pushcart Prize. Her recent work focuses on the natural world and her family history. She is co-editor of the anthology A Bird Black As the Sun: California Poets on Crows & Ravens (Green Poet Press).
Author’s website: www.cynthiaandersonpoet.com
