she almost disappears completely
into the (sadness, depression,
isolation) what we like to simply
call blue until we have frozen her
solidly curled up in protection
her body a swirl an exhale
of carbon dioxide crystalized
then vaporized then gone
Lisa Stice is a poet/mother/military spouse, the author of Uniform (Aldrich Press, 2016), and a Pushcart Prize nominee. While it is difficult to say where home is, she currently lives in North Carolina with her husband, daughter and dog. You can learn more about her and her publications at lisastice.wordpress.com and at facebook.com/LisaSticePoet.
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