You can’t reach my sister’s door without getting wet.
Scarlet plants along the path collect dew in droplets like blood –
It’s a way of thwarting guests.

Her son’s offer to prune is met with suspicion;
She knows how surgeons tend to overdo.
She limps quite badly, now.

I give her two white towels knit like gauze.
She hangs them next to the shower chair,
And uses them to blot her scars.

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About Emily Buchanan

Emily Buchanan was born in California and has lived in the Eastern Cape for more than thirty years. She has an MA from UCT in Creative Writing and is a poet and editor, as well as an ardent feminist, mother, grandmother and part-time recluse. Her experience in the Life Righting course made profound and enhancing changes to both her writing and editing. Her poem How We Try To Help was originally published in New Contrast.