Thursday, June 28, 2018

It'll Be Okay

I sometimes take the challenge when I'm given a poetry or short story prompt from one of my favorite writing magazines, The Writer's Digest. I did so today when my brain screamed that it needed a break from editing. The prompt was to write a poem with EX in the title. It could be an EX-husband, an EXtra special occasion or even EXtracting juice from a coconut, haha. Once upon a time before my days of short stories and full-length novels, I wrote poetry, but it's been a long time. Back in the day capitalization and punctuation rules for poetry and prose were pretty much the same. I love poetry that rhymes and there are so many different rhyming schemes. The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost (see link)  is in the ABAAB scheme. That and the ABAB traditional rhyme scheme are the ones most of you will remember from basic high school English. I also love the unconventional rhyming schemes that poets like Odgen Nash used. I still find his light and humorous poetry delightful!  But sometimes punctuation, capitalization, and rhyming get in the way of our thought expressions so these days almost anything goes. With that in mind, I'm claiming poetic license on my scrambled thoughts in this poem. The challenge, an EX word. I immediately thought of those EXamination rooms where many of us have waited to get good or bad news. It can be a stressful experience. After you've read my poem, I challenge you to write one of your own using EX in the title. It's good mental exercise!

Examination Room

Another scan, another probe
the caller said--just routine
Routine for who my thoughts replied
It’s me, not you

We’ll fit you in Thursday next,
six days from now okay?
My thoughts screamed, no not okay
but answered, yes that’s fine

It’s nothing, I heard from friends,
we’ve been through this before
But that was you, not me my thoughts replied
No worries, I said instead

A mammogram an ultrasound
and then a curtain pulled
to wait with my own thoughts
those wretched thoughts of doom

A knock, a smile, a chart in hand
She lingered by the door
Good news, a false alarm
We’ll see you in a year

For some, the news is not so good
so I’ve learned to never say
It’s nothing, you’ll be okay
I’ll give a hug instead

By: Glenda Manus

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