My Dad fell …
Ambulance
Mmm hmm, mmm hmm
Yes, that’s right, suite 422
No, he’s not bleeding
Breathing? Yes, but laboured
He can’t …
I don’t know
He can’t get up
Please, we need hel …
No
Eighty seven
No blood thinners
Leva Dopa Carba Dopa
Yes, Parkinsons
No
Pacemaker, and a stent
Okay, thank you
Yes, I will stay on the line
I hear them now
They are in the parking lot
Yes, thank you, thank you
Writing a poem a day is really hard.
This process does not work for me.
Although, it does force a lot of new material.
Force being the operative word.
It is more effective for me to do two or three poems in a day.
Clear the slate. Clear the mind.
Open the heart. Create an environment in which to create.
I must get quiet inside to make space to welcome the words.
Enjoy it. Relish it. Don’t push it.
Feel it, don’t force it. Let it come.
If I create a space it will find a path.
I must not beat myself up over my work.
I must work with it.
Physical movement is important to the mind.
So is good food, good rest.
Poetry can’t come from an impoverished soul.
For your protection
heavy
yet flexible
it wraps
any
every
part of your body
movement is still
available
but requires more effort
the cashier at the grocery store
and the teller at the bank
can’t see it
How are you? they say
I’m fine, you say
but you’re not
you are being crushed
by the lost weight
of your loved one
and you will never
be the same again
Lead can kill you