The Biology of Absence
We don’t realize how much we keep track in our cells.
How we note the absence and the quiet that swells
Hollow is a word I think when I walk in the door
It’s hard not to expect him and just put on the chain
I wash my hair and all the while his DNA strands
weave a basket in which my heart lies wet at my own feet.
The Eve Before My Son’s Graduation
My son’s face back-lit
his huge hair frames a face I know
but cannot see
and I think how beautiful he is today
listening to him tell me his life
his huge life framing a big unknown
The future, a planet on fire
glowing, like him, with promise
Traveling the World
I travel the world thinking of you
my own little world for so long
until the day you launched yourself into it
the big one
a world in which I recede
and my own little world expended too
riding on a sea so vast and deep deep blue
the ocean is so grand surrounding me
the valleys stretch as far as you can see
the history of man so long and brutal
and beautiful too
but not as beautiful or grand as you
After We Hang Up
there are no words
no words no ways to tell you
but
if you were here
I’d hug you
I’d hold you with my head all angled up
knowing you were waiting for me to let go
I’d hold you, smelling your neck
remembering that neck at all its various sizes
and all its various degrees of clean
my little boy
my tiny baby
my growing child
my angry teen
my funny side-kick
I am so proud of you
so proud for you
so deliriously happy for the life you are making
without me
I still miss you sometimes
but mostly I’m okay knowing you are out there
being wonderful
in the big exciting world you make
As the daughter of a Chilean actor and a Mexican pianist, Flora Sussely spent her childhood in Mexico City, Buenos Aires and Santiago. Moving to Los Angeles, she found work as a singer, and a writer and producer for film, television, print, radio media. After the birth of her son, her multi-faceted career was replaced by parenthood and work in nonprofit environments supporting ethnic cultures and combating poverty. Today, Flora contributes her music to raise awareness and money for worthwhile causes. Her son, Emerson, recently graduated from college. She says, “Letting him move on is a lot harder than having raised him alone.” Emerson is the object of many of her poems. She writes, “I can fill the room with all the boys my Emerson has been and all the young men he has most recently become.”