Small birds teeter
on the wires by the feedstore.
Crows scatter broken seedpods
beneath the streetlight.
Flowering weeds crowd the dusty sidewalk,
sickly yellow or red as blood.
Lemons fall from the tree
for leaf mold and lack of water.
A rattlesnake slithers into the chaparral,
scales bulging with rat.
The MRI coaxes unexpected images
from harmless shadow.
The full moon moves from worm
to wolf.
Ruth Bavetta’s poems have appeared in Rattle, Nimrod, North American Review, Slant, American Journal of Poetry and many other journals and anthologies. She has been an associate editor for Good Works Review and has been nominated for Best of the Net and the Pushcart Prize.
“This poem reflects the unpleasant surprise I got when an MRI for an ongoing problem discovered by accident a much more serious problem.”
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6 thoughts on “Prognosis”
What strong imagery you use to communicate your experience!
Thank you!
Dear girl
take care;
avoid the whirl
of wear and tear;
unfurl
your hair
and hurl
an eclair
down rural
roads where
neural
repair;
will cure-all
finally fair!
love, Poppy
Warning duly taken. Thanks, Pops!
Thank you, dear Nina!
Ruth, I love the detailed images in the list, and then the punch