Imagination's Gift

By Martha Patterson

The zigzag on the Rorschach test

Looked like a zebra --

It was black and white

And sprouted coltish legs.

They gave these tests because

I’d tried to kill myself --

“It was an accident,” I said,

In self-defense to medics.

The patients became friends;

It was a haven in the hospital --

Dad called it “a cocoon,”

And, downcast, paid the bill.

But, it was more than chance

That I did the deed -- post-job,

Post-romance, then post-holiday,

All sour -- and lost my mind.

I wish I’d had those patients,

So comforting in their craziness,

With me when I did it --

When I gashed my wrists.

They would have made me see

I’m no misfit at all

And seeing zebras in a zigzag

Is imagination’s gift.

Martha Patterson writes poetry, plays, fiction, and essays. Her work has been published by Smith & Kraus, Applause Books, the Sheepshead Review, Silver Birch Press, Pioneer Drama Service, Syndrome Magazine, and others. She has degrees from Mt. Holyoke College and Emerson College, and lives in Boston, Massachusetts. She is addicted to National Public Radio and loves being surrounded by her books and laptop.