June Stoddard

 A Dismantling

The formal entry beacons ritual,
with healing crystal votive holders,
gold framed mirrors reflecting selves on every wall,
no family for photos.

Halfway up the royal red painted stairs
sits the dog-eared Beardsley,
nestled into the floor to ceiling wall of books,
leading up into their private lair,
with bamboo king bed,
emerald green Chinese lacquered chest,
Kilim rugs,
shutters open wide to expansive mountain views,
entering I’m schooled in intimate space.

Now,
six decades of their partnership shattered
with his sudden death.
I empty her home of forty years to care for her
and wonder
does she know her sanctuary is coming apart?
Is that why she fell?

Her skull teeters on broken vertebrae,
neck brace in place, immobile,
stuck in uncomprehending mind
wild, unable to do anything.
Fingers busted, nose broken,
we laugh that she has had a nose job
maybe masks will fit better now.

On the wall my photo watches over her.
She knows me from it,
chosen family.
Under the new burden I carry
my heart, back, shoulders grow wider and lighter,
expansive.

June Stoddard aspires to write mysteries to rationalize years of binge streaming BBC detective shows, and after a thirty-year career as a private eye corporate matchmaker finds herself living and solving her own mysteries. June is published in Blue Sky Press Publications. She writes weekly with Peggy Dobreer’s Slow Lightning Lit, and is an editor for Muleskinner Journal. June is a graduate of UW-Madison with a double Major in English & Theatre and lives in Santa Monica.