1968
I unfold my plastic lawn chair in the uncut grass
of my backyard
and turn the radio to rock and roll
It is summer and the sun is at high noon
I smooth the baby oil
across my body until it
glistens with wetness
and lie back
inviting the sun to
burn me brown
2011
I take my place upon the examining table
the paper rustles under me as I
smooth the blue robe across my legs
It is winter and cold outside
the doctor swabs my skin
and injects the needle
before she cuts
and I lie back
giving a shiver
in the cold room
~
missing the mom gene
