Sheila-Na-Gig online

Poetry

Deborah Saltman

Saltman

I am a physician and re-emerging poet living across the hemispheres and the Atlantic currently enjoying my London landing. I have had six poems published in reviewed US publications in the last year (one in Poetica, one in Off the Coast, and four in BLAZEVOX, and after twenty years of scientific writing, I am enjoying my return to my calling.

 

The underground

After decades
I think I hear her familiar breathing again
That click of her rusty diaphragm
Wrestling under the diseased heart
Air always struggling to draw in and out
Beyond the cardiac space
No explorer would dare to enter
Or was it just
The conductor’s raspish call
Express stop to exit only?

Pretending to put on the lipstick I never wear
I took a selfie
Just to get a glance of her
There sitting behind me
In the disabled seat

I long for her caved chest to rise up and lay down
Next to me
Deep with laboured inhaling
The rhythm section of her tired ribcage freed
From our past hiccupping
Could we ever breathe the same air again?

My station calls
Now in the long corridor exit to fresh air
Walking over the top of her departing carriage
My tunnelled vision unfolds
If she was the one
I’m glad she didn’t look up

%d bloggers like this: