as girlfriends will, as women do
what’s the cocktail these days,
I ask, touching the side of her leg
as she slowly leans into a plastic pharmaceutical bag
tucked under the coffee table
and takes out one at a time, enough pills
herbal and otherwise, to fill the hollow of her hand.
whatever, she says, smiling slightly
as she lifts the bottle of water to her lips—
knowing she probably couldn’t name them all
any more than I could remember them, implying
a glimmer of trust that they’re doing what needs to
be done for the duration.
her brother’s stepped out for a video while she and I
sit on the couch visiting, as girlfriends will, as women do.
her will is updated, she begins to tell me, and yesterday
Lloyd, her minister friend came over to be
at her side while the funeral director paid a visit
to finalize plans.
they’ve suggested the Eagles Hall for a reception—
the women would make sandwiches, and that would be
nice,
don’t you think?
a decent weekend
it’s not always what you’d dare to expect, even
if one could come up with something tangible
perhaps a few days in which the kids eagerly come
home to visit, a friend drops by with a warm pizza
bottle of wine, the laundry gets washed and folded,
groceries are bought, where at one store the cashier’s
total comes to precisely thirty-nine dollars, right next
door, not a penny more or less than forty. instead, such
a week’s end may be one in which you realize the very
touch of your lover’s skin, tenderness of smile that still
brushes ever so softly across the indigo recesses of your
mind, faded as they may need to become, are no longer
yours to own, or that a decent weekend can simply be one
of acceptance, that even across tundra there will surely be
enough water for a lone wolf to drink, or that birds outside
your window playing tag, never care to know just who is “it.”
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Donna Hill lives in British Columbia, Canada with her three sons. She has
been writing poetry since 1998, drawing much of her writing style for
realism from life around her, her family, and work as a child educator. She
is a part time university student earning her Batchelor of Arts in English
and Creative Writing. Donna is also co-creator and poetry editor of Erosha,
an online literary journal of the erotic. Her poems have appeared
internationally, in such issues as Teak Round Up, One Dog Press, Poems
Niederngrasse, Poetry Motel, Peshekee River Poetry, and Slipstream, and have
also been published by numerous literary webzines. "My Hands Write When I
Need Them To," took first prize in Comrades first annual poetry contest in
the UK, and was invited into their anthology entitled, "Uno," 2002. Clean
Sheets Press has published her poem, "Carolina Rain" in their latest
anthology, December 2001. Donna's poetry site can be found at
www.donnamichelehill.com.
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