Devon Balwit

WHERE I FIND MYSELF

Listen to the audio version.

My husband ferries me
into the sunlight as one would

a plant. It's hard
to let myself be transported.

I can't think of myself
in terms other than agency.

Behind the bromides of doctors
and friends—Be positive—

I recognize the fear
of a narrative without uplift.

The dying are positive
that they will die

and can do no better.
I sit in the sun and watch

passersby. An acquaintance
says hi without stopping.

It takes a while
before I can remember his name.

Devon Balwit teaches and writes in the Pacific Northwest. Her most recent collection is titled A Brief Way to Identify a Body (Ursus Americanus Press). Her individual poems can be found in The Cincinnati Review, Tampa Review, Fifth Wednesday (on-line), Apt (long-form issue), Grist, and Oxidant Engine among others. For more on her book and movie reviews, chapbooks, collections and individual works, see her website at: https://pelapdx.wixsite.com/devonbalwitpoet.