Stained Cells Under a Microscope

Each Image Makes Its Way

The wall between us
is semi-permeable,
merely a membrane.
It would be translucent
if there were light here.

We are cells, the tiniest
units of her and we are
alive now, revitalized.
We endured the chemo
while our faster growing

sisters, the ones whose
genes had been hijacked,
were killed. We were sad
and tired, so tired. Once
we were fed only push

push through the day.
Today, an idea comes
across the membrane,
the words and music
and rhythm to nourish it.

Each image makes its way
across the cytoplasm, joins,
integrates into our nucleus,
our DNA. Poems are a part
of us, an elixir for her.

About This Poem:

• This poem got mixed reviews from my critique group. The reader who loved this poem managed to convince the one who wanted to cut it from my collection that it should stay.
• I don’t remember how long after my cancer treatments this poem came to me, but it was years later. Healing takes time.
• It was first published in Survivor’s Review in 2016.
• I like writing persona poems, especially from an unusual point of view. This one is written from the point of view of my cells.
• A poetry friend suggested I submit to this journal. Poetry is an elixir, not only in the writing process but also in the community that is forged among poets.