A birthday blessing
Maybe this year the tumor
will turn out to be benign,
“I love you” will be spoken
in earnest, and the snowstorm
will dissolve into rain. Maybe
a “yes” will push up from
the pile of “no,” overflowing
these months like Kleenex
spilling from the trash.
Maybe this year the skylights
won’t leak, and jobs won’t
be quit, and friends once kept
close as not-so-supple skin
will stick around instead
of taking their leave. Maybe
this is the year when
the reflection in the mirror
begins again to look familiar,
like someone you once knew
long ago, or someone you
would still like to be.
Jessica Lynne Likes Words 