After we broke up
actually after you broke up with me
my transcendental friend told me
that our departed mothers were so upset
by your jump off the right path
that they set up an emergency meeting
with the big leader of the pack
after seeing that I was having dinner
with a revival man who was so ga ga
over me that I was able to enjoy a brief
dessert of flaming cherries jubilee,
without comparing him to you
but then vibes from the mothership
fresh with newly bestowed power
crashed that party, and swallowed me
into an orb of you, touching me, coaxing me
out of my chair, so I could get up, go home
ignore your email, pick up your phone call
tell you I was over you
and agree to marry you
after you shared how a sphere of knowing
I was the one, engulfed you like a mist,
a honey dew
at the same time I was dining
with that man named he's not you
and now our mothers laugh and wait
saving places for us
at their bountiful table in forever land
Susan Shea's poems have appeared in Across the Margin, Ekstasis, Persimmon Tree Literary Magazine, Feminine Collective, Ekstasis and more. Susan is a retired school psychologist who loves being a full-time poet. She was raised in New York City, and now lives in a forest in the mountains of Pennsylvania.