Serving House: A Journal of Literary Arts
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SHJ Issue 8
Fall 2013

[Two Poems]

by Rebecca Chamaa

The Exposure After Death

My grandmother had a secret                 
in the form of a letter
we found after she died.
It was a marriage proposal
from a man who was not
my grandfather.
She kept it with her sixty years
hidden at the base of her bed
in a trunk.
No one knew that the preacher’s wife
was a mystery
even to those closest to her.
I like to imagine
the memory of her romance
was passionate
and carried her through
all the sermons about sin.


Diet Away

She’s starving herself.
Most of us
can’t help her.
We wish we could
on a cookie,
or ice cream,
chocolate lava cake—
second helpings of any kind.
We wish we had more self 
over what we put in our mouths,
so our bones would peek out
from our flesh;
Showing the shape of our skeleton.
She’ll probably die from poor nutrition,
and we’ll die of envy—
how she looked so skinny
floating on the pillows
of a coffin.



SHJ Issue 8
Fall 2013

Rebecca Chamaa

retired from a career as a social worker so that she could finally pursue her first love, poetry. Her work has been published in Pearl and A Year In Ink, and she has a poem coming out in Stepaway Magazine this month. She lives in San Diego with her husband of fifteen years.

“...we have been born here to witness and celebrate. We wonder at our purpose for living. Our purpose
is to perceive the fantastic. Why have a universe if there is no audience?” — Ray Bradbury