Susan Sink

Aïda’s father-in-law sends word:
The house near Bucha was looted but not destroyed.
She asks him to take what valuables he finds,
And uncover the rose bushes before he departs.

photo by Shannon Ferguson for unsplash

With gratitude to James Jennings and the Ukrainian family in Switzerland he is sponsoring.

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Pawel Czerwinski for unsplash

Matthew 4:11

The drought has made a desert of our land:
drained the ponds, displaced turtles and frogs,
stressed the trees until they yellow
and drop their leaves early, in August.

The chemo has made a desert of my body:
hands burning with the oils of the mildest pepper,
blood carrying less oxygen until fatigue
grounds me on the couch.

The dead leaves rattle, the chickens
chase grasshoppers, take dirt baths,
gather around the joint of the leaky hose.
Like everyone in the world, I am tired.

And yet, in this desert, for no other reason
than that I am beloved, angels minister to me.

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Susan Sink

Susan Sink

poet, writer, gardener, cook, Catholic, cancer survivor. author of 3 books of poetry and 1 novel. Stanford and Sarah Lawrence. susansinkblog.com