My friend, Peter, had this poem published in Midwest Quarterly Summer 2020.
Healing
I echo you echo me
but I cannot in this
be with you any closer
than a bird's shadow
racing along the river far
below her solitary flight
close as fear, as far as laughter.
After the operation you must live
for a time on water only no
bread
no solid anything the tube
of your throat
that feeds you that IS you
torn needing
like a crash like the young needing hope
like a bucket needing more
than the usual repair
sustenance a fix mostly air.
Under the mirror river
water-supple leaves like the wings
of an unseen bird rise from their rest
spread out then dart lower
disturbed
as what we cannot see moves
into deeper water. Some roiled
emotion.
Healing is a miracle that approaches
like a cluster of cats who drift along
somewhat together in the woods
a herd of patience it hurts
there's not much I can do
no matter what I wish.
Yet if we wait on the bank
longer than slowly
the unseen returns no less
mysterious for its journey
an unclenching of the fist
around the throat
so experienced voices
reassure us.
P M F Johnson
When Peter sent this to me it brought to mind the fourteen surgeries Joanne endured. Of course there were moments of tedium while I practiced my skills at caregiving. Perhaps my weakest area was conversation. That's when I appealed to Joanne's friends as she was confined in the proximity of a monosyllabic introvert. Now I wish I could do more.
Wishing for comments, as I do, I cut and pasted what opens when "Comments" are clicked at the bottom of my post (see below). Please give it a try and report your experience to me. Thanks!
Takk for alt,
Al
"Big questions to ponder?"
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