November 19th, 2021
Golden Shovel Poems
by Cathy Barber
Fibromyalgia
a golden shovel after Sappho fragment #4*
Today I watch detective shows. On
the couch for ten hours amid a pile of things: a
book, a cup of coffee, the remote. Two soft
pillows beneath my head. My body needs a cushion
to get through this day, many days, and here I lie. I
am a lucky person. I will
be able to soothe
my spirits with distractions. But my skin hurts, my
muscles hurt, my legs are tired
and today I am my body.
*Sappho Poems and Fragments, Josephine Balmer, translator.
Cathy Barber reads “Fibromyalgia”:
Seeds
a golden shovel after Teitoku*
The cancer will leave, but not for
months. Chemo is the worst of it, with all
its bags and drips, its “two days later.” The people
in the infusion center, my new clan, are the
bald and bewigged. We nod, rarely smile. A seed
was planted in each of us and spread, a seed of
disease, but also one of recognition, one of daytime
visits from friends, of pill schedules, of napping:
irresistible and frequent. What an odd summer
followed by autumn’s harvest moon!
*The Penguin Book of Haiku, translated and edited by Adam L. Kern.
Cathy Barber reads “Seeds”:
Uneven
a golden shovel after a Burnell Lippy haiku*
Over a year past the mastectomy, I am lopsided, crooked
(medical term: asymmetrical). My bra
hasn’t changed; the length of each strap
and the size of each cup is the same, but I am not—one of
my breasts is huge, one less so, so I tuck in a
falsie each morning. Now I wait for surgery like a café
patron trying to flag down the overworked waitress
for a refill. Should have picked another surgeon, the
one I’ve got needs some urgency, a bit of heat.
*Acorn, a journal of contemporary haiku. No. 6: Spring, 2001. A.C. Masters, editor.
Cathy Barber reads “Uneven”:
Cathy Barber’s poetry has been published in the journals Slant, SLAB, Tule Review, Kestrel, the anthologies Rewilding: Poems for the Environment and Fire and Rain: Ecopoetry of California, and has been nominated for a Best of the Net. Her abecedarian chapbook is Aardvarks, Bloodhounds, Catfish, Dingoes (Dancing Girl Press, 2018). She is a graduate of the Vermont College of Fine Arts MFA program and makes her home in Cleveland Heights, Ohio.