For Rosanna & Helen
Leaden treading to an abundant
urban garden after hearing of
your unrelenting
diagnosis.
Dead weight on a damp campus
bench. Red fall blooms heavily bent
beneath a towering
blue sky.
Facing a weathered September 11th
stone; barren tomb with no bones,
bronze columns of 39 fallen alum,
unknown.
Don’t jump.
Don’t jump to concrete
conclusions
I cry.
Smoke pouring
from shattered
eyes.
Desperate hands grasping
gray flightless
air.
Still alive. Alive.
Maureen Martinez is an emerging poet and counselor at an all-boys Catholic high school in New York City where she has worked for over 20 years. She has four grown sons. Even the dogs are male. She comes from a long line of mountainside ramblers, late night dancers and raucous storytellers, which explains a lot. Her poetry is published or forthcoming in Gramercy Review, Meniscus, Folly Journal, She/He Speaks 2, Washington Square Review, The Listening Eye, and Please See Me.