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Poetry By
  Cheryl Wilder


Published on: 7/15/2010
Any Good Reason

It took all my effort at first
but after time became who I am,
this wanting to ignore
the depth of pain
and just find a plateau. At my hearing
when Mike's father stated to the court how
I did the work of the devil,
the stenographer never looked up,
D - E - V - I - L. Do accidents happen
to you, or do you cause accidents?
While having lunch with a friend
I searched for reasons
why Mike was in a coma.
He said people seek religion after trauma
to answer why; we finished our conversation
in silence. I've never come up with reasons,
only a crisp awareness of timing--
the alcohol in my blood, a sharp left curve,
the shimmering rain--kind of like the atomic bomb
and how the newly invented air-conditioner
cooled the lab until something clicked
and energy leapt through the veins of a moment
stopping time with one loud crash.

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