Creative Works

I am proficient at . . .
the checkboxes . . .
of a modern physician . . .

To the parents who were more than medicine . . .
Healing was never a one-way street . . .
I acquired more than I ever could’ve imparted . . .

In twilight’s hush, a breathless sigh, . . .
A weary soul begins to fly. . . .
With gentle hands, Death draws near, . . .

I draw a flower on my belly . . .
and think of you . . .
life giving and taking . . .

A thin maple stands in the yard, . . .
brown leaves clinging to brittle branches. . . .
Encircling it, dormant plants . . .
with flowers tucked in away from the cold. . . .

Like a hiccup, a giggle burst forth. . . .
Then another. . . .
It was like carbonation, impossible to keep contained . . .