jo: psych ward poetry (ii)

this morning

there’s this buzz in the dayroom

other than the ordinary fluorescent hum

and not the cicadas in the courtyard

but more an anticipation

buzzing

through thirteen young, scarred bodies

there’s a new smile to return

new hands and new art and new words

and it’s all buzzing, buzzing with energy

that is golden yellow

and called jo.

jo has glass shards

in her smile

but they don’t cut when she laughs

instead, they reflect light

and she shines