LUCKY My thoughts linger on the hem of my purple dress. I am not a perpetual witness to failure but a doppelganger uncovering roots – source of connection and remembrance. Sometimes I traverse the road between heaven and hell, strumming “So Long Marianne” on a beat-up guitar or fingering prayer beads. I don’t recognize family portraits in the hall, blue light turning faces olive and sullen. I listen to myself whistling. It’s not a matter of chance, not a question of who, what, where, why or when, but the other w — wonder— whipping around the windowsill as Earth spins into dawn. I bathe in morning light with a full view of the chapel. I am not my own worst enemy. I am a lucky lady holding out a finger for a bird.
Susan Michele Coronel is a NYC-based poet and educator. She has a B.A. in English from Indiana University-Bloomington and an M.S. Ed. in Applied Linguistics from the City University of New York. Her poems have appeared in publications including Prometheus Dreaming, Hoxie Gorge Review, Ekphrastic Review, Passengers Journal, Street Cake, Tiny Seed Literary Journal, Newtown Literary, and HerWords.