By Kimberly L. Becker
After your fever breaks
and you’re headed back to school,
I strip your bed
to wash the residue of flu.
Pillowcases, sheets, blankets
all heaped into the wash.
I think of other blankets,
other outcomes.
Add bleach to the load.
Aim to get the blankets white, white, white.
First published in Crab Creek Review, Summer 2009
© Kimberly L. Becker
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Kimberly L. Becker is a member of Wordcraft Circle of Native Writers & Storytellers. Her poetry appears in many journals and anthologies, such as Diverse Voices Quarterly, Future Earth Magazine, I Was Indian (FootHills), Pemmican, Platte Valley Review, and Poets and Artists. Finalist for the DeNovo Award (C&R Press), she received a FY10 grant from the Arts and Humanities Council of Montgomery County (MD) to study Cherokee language, history, and culture in Cherokee, NC. Current projects include adapting Cherokee myths into plays for Cherokee Youth in Radio Project at the Cherokee Youth Center in Cherokee, NC.
