Reflections on a White Calla Lily

A Cento Poem

Reflections on a White Calla Lily, a cento poem for my friend, MK, from Palestine

In the maw of night,
in the intimacy of death’s toll
he sips slowly memories of
his mother’s dumplings,
his father’s blessing.
The still faces of the slain.

All life’s loves just a moment
ago plump, sweet, warm.

He comes apart easily,
life not supposed to be like this.

Take me to the river,
the shores of Styx.
Lead me past reminders
when the air itself was ripe
enough to eat, like
rich tastes of sunset.

On the Day of the Dead,
atomic explosions blooming
like dahlias. Vision of his
grandmother. Where blood
should have been–
“I can’t feel a thing.”

You try to cry, believe in love
changing. Grief is your hand
in salt, regret that never dries up,
being with them one more time.

Janell Strube 5/4/2024

Sources: Adrian, Lindsay Allgood, Janice Alper, Samantha Fakhimi, Douglas Frey, Leslie Hendrickson-Baral, Terry Hertzler, Rajak Jamal, Kathleen Felan Jay, Nasha U. Khan, Carol Moscrip, Marge Piercy, Wendy Rainey, Leslie Z., San Diego Poetry Annual/Tent City, Vol. 2023-2024

Dear reader, I wrote this Cento - a patchwork poem made up of lines or phrases from other poems using the recently published San Diego Poetry Annual where two of my own poems appear. Today, the number 26 came in my meditations again, so I wrote a 26 line poem based on lines or phrases that appeared in every 26th poem in the anthology. The photo is from one of my spring walks.

The poetry annual be accessed online at the San Diego Poetry Annual

or purchased in hard copy using the following Amazon link:

San Diego Poetry Annual Hardcopy