Secrets
Murmuring her morality’s
expiration date
like a lost radio tune
undone by bad reception
Mom tells Grandma’s
memory care nurse
she forgot to arrange
a carpool for me.
“I’ll be back soon”, she tells Grandma.
The snow swirls
switches sanity off.
The road is blurred
sightless and blinding white.
The car almost planes
as she veers
towards the school.
“Always stay this good, sweetie,”
and Grandma’s
comment takes on
tumorlike significance.
An impossible commandment.
Mom repeats
the imperative.
I’m too young but to
believe the order
is easy to obey.
Mom’s tumor
stays secret
from the family
as if silence
stops it from
metastasizing.
Or as if guilt
can’t metastasize until
everything turns black
as radio fuzz.
Copyright 2025 Juliana Schifferes
Bio:
Juliana “Jules” Schifferes is a Washington DC native and resident. She has published
several times. She values her chance to publish in Wishbone Words, The Mid-Atlantic Review,
and Poetry X Hunger in particular, and was the inaugural Luce Prize winner in 2023. Outside of poetry, she loves opera, following politics, and Romantic-era classical music
Donation Appeal:
To help victims of cancer and to help foster continuing research into this deadly disease, please consider donating to either The American Cancer Society or The Leukemia and Lymphoma Society.
Thank you.
30 for 30 is sponsored by Potomac Review
