Pains and Petals
blossom cloud—
how many petals
how many pains
“I can give you a
ride home", I said to Mieko's friend.
Mieko was in bed and responded with her tom-boyish grin,
"There's nothing like that car. You'll have fun riding in it."
"Too cruel. It's only last month that my sister was declared
to be confined to a wheel-chair for the rest of her life. And
today she's finding herself not seeing normally", I said as I
drove away from the hospital.
"Indeed. we planned a hiking trip and it was only last week
that I convinced my realist friend on each detail of
wheel-chair hiking." She went on and told me what a good
friend Mieko has been for so many years as they both raised
their children on their own. I started seeing my sister in a
new light—in
that peacock green car she made fun of.... Mieko never let us
look sad for her...
An operation saved the lung, but the cancer went ahead and
found new territories; her spinal chord and her brain. The
kindness arrived and Mieko became unconscious...so many times
did she answer to our name-calling, although it was only by
her breathing—and
that before her lung decided to withdraw.
What was she made of? Of all things nice and strong... Today I
wonder where she tucked her pains and tears.
the storm
after—
I bend and touch
a pink petal on my shoe
The peacock-green
car is no more. I drive her car.
