Grief, transposed

“Symbiosis” by Serge Lecomte

For Sarah

The peonies:
wrinkled, paper-skin.
What is left
after love?

You dry-clean
his flight suit.
You hang it
in the baby’s room.
He was is Paul
the baby is also Paul
and you– a mother,
a lifehouse.

You believe in God
capital-G. I Google
single moms in the bible:
all of them
widows
their offspring
holy.

Everyone thinks
they can bargain
with God.
None of us
hold any chips.

Time rots
and also consecrates.
Salt water heals.
Everyone dies,
but not like this:
a crater.
No,
a question mark.

about the author

Paula Turcotte loves her dog, your dog, and Raisin Bran. She was born and raised on Treaty 7 land, home of the Siksika, Piikani, Kainai, Tsuut'ina and Stoney Nakoda First Nations. Her work has been published in Canthius, Arc Poetry, Nightingale & Sparrow, and elsewhere.

about the artist

Serge Lecomte was born in Belgium. He came to the States where he spent his teens in South Philly and then Brooklyn. After graduating from Tilden H. S. he joined the Medical Corps in the Air Force. He earned an MA and Ph.D. from Vanderbilt University in Russian Literature with a minor in French Literature. He worked as a Green Beret language instructor at Fort Bragg, NC from 1975-78. In 1988 he received a B.A. from the University of Alaska Fairbanks in Spanish Literature. He worked as a language teacher at the University of Alaska (1978-1997). He worked as a house builder, pipe fitter, orderly in a hospital, gardener, landscaper, driller for an assaying company, and bartender.