Nancy Scott

COMFORT'S CONCERN

I carried the cat by its tail
till the tail came loose
and the stuffing fell out
and my mother came after
my fluffy trail
yelling about need
for needle and thread.
I cried.

Sewn secure again,
the tail went bald
though I promised to hold
the talisman by its paws.
I lied.
The tail was the softest fur,
the place to best grasp
what could not be let go.

* * *

FUGUE

I break the way I always break,
wanting you closer, fearing
you closer.
I am braver in the morning,
able to love what is allowed,
almost able to name
that love on paper,
to shape the whole
out of darkness,
to wake my choices
in unlocked cages
I could open
or you could open,
pages unmetered but paid for
with the silence that follows
no risk

when there are no words
and I break
the way I always break.

Nancy Scott (Easton, PA.) is an essayist and poet. Her over 400 bylines have appeared in magazines, literary journals, anthologies, newspapers and as local radio commentary. Recent work has appeared in Kaleidoscope, The Lutheran Journal, Opening Stages and in the anthology Behind Our Eyes. Her poetry chapbook, Hearing the Sunrise was exhibited by the Very Special Arts Gallery, in Washington DC and two of the poems from that book appear in the disability anthology, Staring Back. Her second chapbook, Leveling the Spin is now available.