Miscarriage
(for Sophia Rose)

I knew the possibility was there.
1 in 10 pregnancies end in tragedy.
Yet I shushed the thought from my mind

like dust that accumulates
when no one is watching. There was
so much blood. It was too soon.

As if a dam had broken and a wild
red river came rushing through.
I carried no life-jacket, no first-

aid kit. Caught off-guard. Naked
wearing only a waterproof watch.
Time would move on as if nothing happened.

I placed my hands gently on my belly.
Hoping to somehow feel you in the dark.
Simply sleeping. Bobbing up and down;

a tiny buoy thriving in treacherous waters.




Medusa

In the courtyard,
I fed you grapes
fresh from the vine.
Poured you boysenberry wine
and scrubbed your dirty feet
until they were pink
as cherry blossoms.

Later, I noticed you sketching
nude figures of women;
their breasts ripe and supple
legs spread wide
revealing desire
in shapes of irises,
furry halved peaches.

Hesitantly, I asked you
why you didn't draw me.
You replied that you'd seen
enough of me to sate your interest.
Was I that ordinary?
Or did I remind you
of a modern day Medusa,
shaking her reptilian curls
whenever a bad mood arose.

But there was only one monster here.
Mirrors inhabited the empty spaces,
moving faces from wall to wall.
You had looked my way
enough times through the years
and not once did you ever
turn to stone.


Sandy Benitez’s talent for writing poetry was noticed in high school by her English teacher who encouraged her to keep writing. She has written a book of poetry, Ever Violet, (D-N Publishing, 2007) and two poetry chapbooks, Beneath a Black Pearl Sky (Flutter Press, 2009) and The Lollipop Club (Victorian Violet Press, 2010). Sandy currently resides in Wyoming with her husband, 2 children, and 2 chocolate labs.