Being Published.

As many of you may know, I have recently been published for the very first time. My poem is in this year's edition of Tahoma West, the nationally recognized literary magazine published by students, faculty, and alumni of my school, UW Tacoma. Although I am extremely excited, honored, and blessed to be one of the few published in this magazine this year, I have one comment. Since my poem was accepted by the editorial staff of Tahoma West, I have already revised the poem. I feel that my new version is much better and shows my growth as a writer in such a short time. (I owe it all to my poetry instructor.) So, for those of you who will be getting a copy of the magazine (they're FREE!), I wanted to show you what I have at this point with this poem. One thing always remember, "a poem is never finished." That is a quote from my professor and it is something that comforts me in the revision process. So here is the latest version of "Superwoman"

She’s a trooper,
rarely soft, She barely cries.
She told me what will happen,
Then we sat, I asked “why?”

No one plans for cancer,
nobody has time.
The breasts that fed me and nourished me,
Gone.

I help Her up, very slowly
One inch at a time, She
scoots, and in one smooth move,
She’s up, now to attempt the walk.

It’s basically a hike
to the restroom, a challenge
just to lower her clothes, and full recovery
in the works, every time She sits back down.

Unable to bathe herself I must step up,
She sits on the stool, I take the sponge.
Her bandages still taped to her,
thank God I don’t have to see the true wound.

So Superwoman endures the worst,
while looking Her best.
She takes the beating,
And never backs down.

As much as I feel I suffer
watching my mother struggle,
She is the one in the pain.
She’s the survivor, not me.