A Poem by Spangle McQueen

IceFloe Press

Before she had me, my mum was a PA and wore green nail polish


Before her voice, her heartbeat was my home

sometimes soothing, sometimes racing,
her nineteen-year old brain trying to

decipher her dilemma.

He’d assured her that doing it standing up would be safe.


The consultant and his student are discussing her echo.

See here – arrhythmia, atrial fibrillation, the whirl

of red and blue of tricuspid


He’s sorry. Too risky for open-heart surgery.


Too raw to write.

But somehow I’m comforted to learn

that astronomers have imaged

an unexpected violet aurora

on a faraway comet.

Spangle McQueen@spanglemcqueen is a happy grandma and hopeful poet living in Sheffield, UK. She is proud to have work published onl ine and/or in print by Three Drops Press; Picaroon; Lonesome October Lit; Bonnie’s Crew; Burning House Press; Foxglove Journal; Strix; Awkward Mermaid; Sad Girl Review; I…

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