Nan Wigington          Return

Suddenly
Second Prize
Poetry Contest 2005

I’ve grown to this—
wary old woman,
dressed in every care she ever owned,
winter coat over spring dress.

My dry heavy head
rests on receptacle collar,
parched stalk.

When I move,
the last petals float free,
the roots of my square black shoes creak.

I’m leaning
toward brittle bad ends.
My heart bends
toward the dead.

Just under the surface,
mole-faced, worm-eyed,
I know they wait for me.