Keep it All In
/I squeezed my eyes shut and prayed nothing would fall out. I moved the way I did in an art gallery, careful not to damage anything precious. Sunspots flickered through my eyelids. Awe for the beauty, the harshness, the originality. My hands extended beyond the barrier to caress sculptures, paintings, photographs of the life I’d lived. My brother and me, mom and dad, birthdays and school days. Snow suits and wet mittens. Fried bologna and creamed corn. Wooden spoons and red welts. Poplar trees cracking under lightning and puppies running away.
I opened my eyes wide. It began to rain.
Marsha Masseau
Creativity has been Marsha’s driving force: in writing and life. That force guides her to the depths of self-reflection. Sometimes she gets lost down there and needs to write her way back to the light.
