Our feature this week: Dianne Silvestri is a physician, mother of four grown children, and stem cell bone marrow transplant recipient for acute leukemia. While tapering her careers in medicine and motherhood, she has indulged her sweet spot—poetry. She participates in Boston’s PoemWorks Workshop for publishing poets. Her works have appeared or are forthcoming in Earth’s Daughters, The Comstock Review, The Pharos, The Somerville Times, Evening Street Review, Steam Ticket, and Boston Literary Magazine. Her chapbook Necessary Sentiments is scheduled for release soon from Finishing Line Press.

Dianne Silvestri

Buying a Pumpkin on Chemo
You are the one.
I circled the globes
on this hillock of orange
heads, moon faces like those
of us who’ve been taking too
much prednisone for too long.

I sidestepped calvaria
with sunken temples,
chimney crowns, glowing
perfection.

You there, passed by shoppers
who snub the nubby scar
across your forehead,
the dried abrasion
stubbled on your chin,
you are mine,
wounded vulnerable strong soul.

I will give you eyes
to find me likewise
free of hair, my face distorted,
marred.  We’ll celebrate
the brief season together.
 
— Dianne Silvestri

_______________________________________________
To have your work considered for the LYRICAL send it to:
dougholder@post.harvard.edu