If I lived in Sicily I'd slip a charm
into a glass case in a remote cave,
a gold charm made to symbolize an arm
or in this case a leg and it would have
to be inscribed to some saint who I still
don't know, but I imagine him a ghost
visiting that dank cave all in a pill
unsure of who to heal first, who would most
need that furtive magic. How would he see
my daughter's leg twisted from some birthmark
on her genes? Maybe it's better that we
left those saints long ago in caves in dark
corners of that island where we know we'd
have spent hours polishing small limbs of gold.
Cristina Trapani-Scott lives in Ypsilanti, Michigan, with her husband and two children. She is a feature writer and columnist for a weekly newspaper called the Tecumseh Herald, and is currently a creative writing MFA candidate at Spalding University. Her work has been published in Hip Mama Magazine and Poetry Motel Wallpaper Series. She is also the 2003 winner of the Chelsea Poetry Competition in Chelsea, Michigan.