Zebra G nibs, oblique pen holders,
Moon Palace ink—a list of yummy supplies.
I’m tempted to run off Saturday mornings
and learn calligraphy. English Round Hand,
the catalogue says. Just leave the laundry and dishes,
ignore Carol starting chemo, Pat and her pain pump,
all the rest—there’s a lot of us in the cancer support group.
I picture dipping my pen in ink, following the arrows
down, up, around, rows of letters, learning to write
thinking of you, sending good thoughts,
mailing a card—something more solid than hope,
which fades like flowers left too long in a vase.
Victoria Melekian lives in Carlsbad, California. Her stories and poems have been published in Mudfish, Literary Orphans, Atlanta Review, Valparaiso Fiction Review, Word Riot, and other anthologies. She’s been nominated for a Pushcart Prize and was a runner-up in the 2018 Bath Flash Fiction Novella-in-Flash Award. Her story “What I Don’t Tell Him” aired on NPR. She’s twice won a San Diego Book Award. For more, visit http://www.victoriamelekian.com.