Greetings, readers, and welcome back to Wednesday Words. Today, I’m happy to share one of my poems, “Elsewhere,” published in The Florida Writer magazine in the October 2024 issue. That’s the magazine of The Florida Writers Association. But first … I want to say a few words about the devastating wildfire disaster in California, which began after I’d already prepared this post about “Elsewhere.”
Caring about people in Los Angeles, California
We know from many reliable reports that wildfires in L.A. are causing horrendous suffering for thousands and thousands of people and have taken lives. If you can, please donate to a reputable organization that’s helping those in need, such as the World Central Kitchen.
Maybe like me, you have friends or family who live in the L.A. area, or maybe you once lived there yourself like I did. Please know I understand how this catastrophe may affect you on a deeply personal level. My heart goes out to you and to everyone impacted by this horrific event.
If you live in L.A., here’s a helpful resource: A list of free and discounted resources for victims of Los Angeles-area fires – Los Angeles Times
Note: If you don’t know, any text on my blog that appears in green is a link to another website.
Now, a little background on “Elsewhere”
This poem is a “true story,” sharing what I felt while undergoing surgery on my face to remove a hefty spot of skin cancer many years ago. I mention it in the “Afterword” of Undertow.
Many years after the surgery, a poem about it began to surface and take shape. Back then, it was a very long version of what you see below. Much later, during a poetry class, the instructor gave me feedback on it. Then I stashed the poem in my files for many more years. Last year I found it while cleaning out those files, so I reworked it, received feedback from a poet friend, revised it again, then submitted it for publication. Lesson learned: if you’re a writer, don’t throw out any of your work! Rewrite, revise, recycle.
Elsewhere
By Charlene L. Edge
The surgeon, Master of The Blade,
flays and carves the skin above her brow.
“Do not move,” he says, “I’m so sorry
you’re going to feel more pain.”
I’ll go elsewhere, she thinks.
The needle, again,
invades her forehead.
She imagines a sparkling sea,
a strip of beach, scattered shells.
She moves in salt and comfort
alongside a cloud-blue-ocean.
The surgeon finds a myriad of sick and ragged cells.
He confiscates the beast:
an octopus unfurled and feasting.
The needle strikes again—
Her wince and shudder send her out to sea.
—END—
Thanks for reading!
Best wishes from your writer on the wing,
Charlene
Sara Schlossman
“Elsewhere,” looking good!
Charlene Edge
Appreciate your help with it, dear poet friend!
Kathleen Brandt
This is timely, Charlene! I’m sure a lot of us will be doing a lot of wincing and shuddering over the days to come…
Sparkling sea and scattered shells sounds good. And the company of good friends, far and near.
Charlene Edge
Yes, love those shells and being by the sea!