Isis
when the doctors turned the vacuums off
i could breathe again and god
was in the silence,
no the poem read: god is the silence
broke apart with a sigh
father, i am afraid of my body
i named her isis
the night she was conceived
beneath closed eyes, as the doctor left
the room, lights danced like angels
“i should tell you…” who can hear me
i’ll begin again this summer
with my eyes that are my mother’s
eyes that are my grandmother’s
it can be easy to let go, they sing
even now
decades later, I rewrite
and rewrite to tell you
this new truth: it was easy
to let go because I had the choice
time rounds all we know
new orleans 2000
New Orleans 2025
—Megan Burns
illustration by Harriet “Happy” Burbeck
