Lament

They called her Buddha,
the kids at school, the mean ones.
She had a Buddha figurine, the image
potbellied, rotund. Maybe she pretended
the nomenclature spoke of wisdom,
discipline...but she knew, understood
they meant corpulent. She tried to fit,
to participate, to be part of and not apart.
It was not her whole reality.
In her twenties she remade herself,
became the image she had sought,
won the amazed praise of all.
But as years went by she lost the gift,
moved from an ideal weight
to clothes sizes in specialty stores only.
Three decades later, her family grown,
physicians despaired the possibility
of medical remedies for any need,
the bulk beyond capacity of equipment.
She had done it before, could again...and did!
Hundreds of pounds shed, and pride reclaimed,
like the raven she vowed, "Nevermore!!"
But she had an illness not only physical
but mind and spirit as well.
She had done it twice, resolved to hold on,
not to go to meetings, admit she might let go,
preferring death to losing weight again regained.
And she will be missed, too early gone.