Poetry by Kristy Snedden

      Stephen A. Wolfe CC




Before My Brother Died

When I hadn’t seen my brother 
for ten years, we met at the Phoenix airport.
We met there four times in a year,
in between his meetings with dealers
and failed 12-steppers. He was burly
and entitled and terrified, caught his thrills
on klonopin and fentanyl while he gave his girl
platitudes,  kept me waiting after the first time,
while he played with his attack dog, Rocko,
or hung out for a few hours at the casino,
cigarette wedged in the corner of his mouth,
glassy-eyed, before he took the limo 
to the airport, sometimes a cab, 
he was usually on the edge of dope-sick 
but once his glittery eyes looked right at me,
they cackled, don’t get close to me, it’ll kill you.
There was a yellow ring around the blue iris.
He took my money for coffee, or something, 
at the local Racetrack, brought me a cup full of cream 
and sugar and we sat on the curb in the cold 
eating peanut M&Ms while he shivered.





Concrete Bed of Tenderness

If I didn’t have my computer I couldn’t see my therapist.
If I didn’t have therapy, where would my owl live?
I search for her yellow eyes every night. There is something
delicious in her grumpiness. Twice I heard her chuckle 
as though joking with me. She is hungry and opportunistic
and will eat whatever crosses her path - even
the snake whose coppery body glowed earlier today.
The ticking clock reminds me of how my brother’s ghost 
never stops knocking around my bones. Once I rested 
on a blanket of water. I forgot where the water began 
and I ended. The owl sat in a tree and watched night approach.

​


Kristy Snedden is a trauma psychotherapist and poet. Her poetry appears or is forthcoming in various print and electronic journals and anthologies. Her work has been nominated for Best of the Net and a Pushcart Prize. She writes poetry to connect with others  so that we might heal in community. In her free time, she loves hiking in the Appalachian Mountains near her home in Georgia and hanging out listening to her husband and their dogs tell tall tales. You can follow her on Instagram @kristy_snedden_poetry.
​