Summer 2012

Table of Contents - Vol. VIII, No. 2


Poetry    Fiction    Translations    Reviews   

Mary L. Westcott


Chest Pain

Once the pain lifted
off my chest like a balloon
tilting toward heaven,
I vowed to release what
I could not use
like those Good Will items
piling up in my closet,
collecting the dust
of centuries of toxic
molecules, resting sadly
on the floor.
Could I also let go
of old anger and new
resentments collecting
in every corner of the house?
If only I could reduce
them to ashes, sweep
the lot off the balcony,
and remodel, maybe then
the weight would never return,
I’d have a new home.


© Mary L. Westcott


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Poetry    Fiction    Translations    Reviews   

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