Upon Finding a Mole in Your Whiskers
Dad, did you not tell me about the mole
because you wanted to protect me?
But, of course I asked; that is my role—
dutiful daughter. Flying to the sea:
coast to coast, we made the most of these trips.
“It was hard,” you said. “To shave the stubborn
flesh” that was scraped clean like the waiter’s tips.
You and mother. You made me. I was born
with scratchy, black hair, a bad temperament
like your mole: ugliness or beauty mark?
We drove in a white Kia, not quite meant
for these roads, jubilant for the lark.
The brown spot on your face leans towards the sun;
once kissed by your wife, a trembling crumb.
…..
This poem is from the chapbook ANIMALS IN THE HOUSE: 18 SONNETS by Sally Cobau (Finishing Line Press), and can be found at https://www.finishinglinepress.com/product/animals-in-the-house-18-sonnets-by-sally-cobau/
Sally Cobau is a writer/teacher/Mom/yoga practitioner/hiker from a tiny town in southwest Montana. Having received her MFA in poetry from the University of Montana in Missoula, she’s had poems published in rattle, Hole in the Head Review, Ekphrastic Review, Writing in a Woman’s Voice, Tulip Tree Review, Poems Across the Big Sky, II, and other journals and anthologies. Her poem “Weasel in Winter in the Summer Cottage” received a “Honorable Mention” award in Writer’s Digest Annual Writing Competition, November 2024. She’s also had prose published in Room magazine, the Sun, and Oyster River Pages. When she’s not writing, she’s exploring the mountains near her home in Dillon, Montana. The ranchers, river guides, professors, and dog lovers in this little town form the heart of her work.
The Paddock Review 