Monday, June 11, 2018

For Once by Marcia J. Pradzinski

My mind does not flutter away
from the room, the table
I lie on, the people surrounding me.

My body holds my mind still as I
wait and squeeze the soft ball the nurse
has placed in my left hand, its rubber
smell absorbing my attention.

A flake of foreboding dances near her voice,
take a deep breath in, but melts in the
notes of Mozart overhead and the doctor’s
questions about my life – my work, my family.

Lost to me this time – the internal shivering,
the breath-freezing dread of the needle
and its cold steel that burns.



Marcia J. Pradzinski, an award-winning poet, lives in Skokie, Illinois. Her poems have appeared in print publications, anthologies, and online. Blue Heron Review, Olentangy Review, Paper Swans Press (UK), and Pirene's Fountain have featured her poetry most recently. Her chapbook, Left Behind, was published by Finishing Line Press in 2015.

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