A Name that Embodies Rebirth, Renée. Becca, a Name like a Cradling Branch
Poetry
This poem is a cento and collage, composed of Renée Macklin Good’s award-winning poem “On Learning to Dissect Fetal Pigs,” (bold) her last words, and her wife Becca Good’s words (italic) at the scene of Renée’s death, and later, her statement in honor of her wife’s life. My words are in roman text.
1. Becca said You might think it was just my love talking but any place we were together was home
i want back my rocking chairs, tercets from cicadas home clippings from the moon home salt & ink that rubbed off on my palms. Renée was made of sunshine. had whistles exhaling from their mouths all my understanding time pure sunshine that’s fine Our whole extended road trip here, we held hands in the car
2. you might think it was just my love talking but time has been taken away from me forever We had whistles she had sparkles coming out of her pores. All the time.
You might think it was just my love but Endoplasmic kindness radiated out of her chest, pure sun- shine. Our son drew all over the windows to pass the time and the miles sliding long hairs behind my ear like mom used to home maybe there in-between my pancreas & large intestine is the piddly brook of my soul
they killed my wife, I don’t know what I am going to do,
press a cloth against fevered forehead of fear and anger in their hearts?
3. can i let them both be? this fickle faith and [what] heckles from the back of the…room I don’t know what I am going to do now i can’t believe— there is kindness in the world / they killed my wife we’re so good at holding both and we need to do everything we can to find it where it resides home and nurture it where it needs to grow time refusing division and knowing we must come together for wonder & all come home this time, safe to the people we love. life is merely where fickle faith and [what] heckles from the back of the…room meet and how often and how well we come together, and what dies there and what is renée, reborn.
4. Because we’ve been trained from birth to blame ourselves first, (it’s always been the safest and the worst move for us, we’re so good at holding both)—Becca said at the scene: I made her come down here, it’s my fault I’m not mad at you
Let’s translate from the tongue of self-blame and shock to the tongue of celebration of her life time: You might think this was just my love talking but we, being here to love, care for each other, keep each other safe and whole, came down here to love, care, keep each other safe and whole. It’s our whole extended road trip, holding hands.