Sharing Anita Mewherter's poetry

Child of the Cape

As a small girl child from a land-locked town I longed to move near the sea To run all year on the scalloped shore To chase small birds on their twinkling legs To build one last castle before supper’s call and to watch before bedtime, the burning sun dissolve in the cool calm bay

that was long years before small black spots on the mammogram erased immortality’s illusion

Now I know it’s right to live my life on this land of constant change I’m kin to the dunes which blow and shift, disappear and recreate My sister the wind, ruffles the grass along the sun-warmed shore I know I belong on this fragile strand molded by winter’s storms Where gull’s dark shadows pass overhead then disappear over the sea Where the days are marked by the tides steady march and the seasons by marsh grass hue

On a wind-swept hill I celebrate, in solitary joy then turn to watch the burning sun dissolve in the cool calm bay.

“Shells in my Pocket”

The Diagnosis

Words that change your life

should be pronounced in an ancient cathedral where faint shafts of light stream through stained-glass windows


A hushed paneled courtroom where great leather chairs stand in ponderous attention


in cramped sterile cubicle furnished in chrome with a lonely chipped sink and one red plastic chair

And I . . . I, dressed only in paper

with my heart in a knot and my feet cold and dangling Am frozen in time

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