About Recovery , a Sestina

She’d hit bottom and recovering must come. In the clinic detox section she fought back demons and faced the dilemma — telling the kids. Maybe fascinating stories of a handsome baron or about Turks needing services she could volunteer? No! Lies were out. But should she volunteer the truth? She’d hid it, always. Recovering from drugs was not enough. Her kids knew about her “medications” though she’d tried to section her life to protect them. Fascinating how young they’d grasped her life’s dilemma. She’d lost a husband to the dilemma, knifed him for suggesting she volunteer for treatment. So he’d left. Fascinating now how right his leaving seemed. Recovering in the cold, sanitary detox section clarified what past and future were about. The truth be told, she didn’t mind about him. But their sons were ten and twelve, a dilemma. She should be sitting in the cheering section of Mark’s softball game and ought to volunteer for Joe’s field trip. But she lay recovering, safe. And clarity was fascinating. How could she bask in clarity, fascinating or not, and not do anything about the boys? What was the use of recovering without them. She had more than one dilemma. Without them she might as well volunteer for permanent residence in detox section. But she couldn’t stay on in this section. Watching drunks and druggies wasn’t fascinating but disgusting. She’d better serve to volunteer once through, but she must do something about the boys. How could she call her sons a dilemma and say the same about her own recovering? The detox section was for her sons, about them, not some fascinating abstract dilemma. For them she’d volunteer to push on, recovering.