To My Godmother Named Bering Poem by RIC BASTASA

my godmother Bering
who lives in Queensland
has sent her worries
about me accordingly not
having written much
about love and its magical
effects

she is suffering from
cancer of her breast
and on her terminal stage
at four

or shall we call it
terminal but she is that
kind of strong woman
who keeps a bowl of hope
as though they were fresh
apples and berries recently
harvested from the fields


i sent words back
telling her that i have
written much about love
masked with passion or
even lust
masked, yes masked in the
face of the air
at dawn which somehow visited
her and even kissed her
warm cheeks but she was then
too busy looking by that glass
window taking her time
watching those snow flakes
slowly falling on the empty
twigs of those apples trees
which are dressed for that
winter occasion

not complaining that
the harsh winter had
robbed them all of their
leaves and buds and
everything.