Floating Down Denial

By: Susan Shea

Newly retired, I carried myself
to a group meeting called spares
and pairs, gathering in a classroom

not knowing to bring lunch, I
found myself answering so many
questions for smiling grey-haired
youngsters to my left and to my right

I kept reaching into places inside
myself that hadn't been shared for so long,
while invisible angels left three halves
of sandwiches in front of me

I started feeling old places deep
inside me like stalagmites, growing up
from my cave floor, not ready

to fly with such a flock, knowing I was
still too set in my ways, a dented rowboat
journeying back and forth
between work and grace at play

I went to my car to freshen my lipstick
red to remind me to stop getting old

Susan Shea is a retired school psychologist who was raised in New York City, and now lives in a forest in Pennsylvania. Since third grade, she has been a poet. In the mid 1990's, she wrote poetry in her spare time, and had some poems accepted in Pudding, Plainsongs, The Pegasus Review, and others.

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