Fingerprint in Red

I felt a pulse

And bruised her neck

A fingerprint in red

Two rounds of work

That broke her ribs

Heart now barely beating

Her blood so thin 

Skin now yellow 

Unnaturally prolonged

She’d spoke that morning

And ate her lunch

She’d laughed about her twins 

Now they’re here 

    and ask me bluntly

Ask the man who bruised her

If anything can save her

I shake my head

The doc agrees

We wait for time to take her 

Decatur Street

The Road Song plays 

Coffee tastes sweet and black

Crawfish and some Jambalaya

Lingers like a bent string 

Reaching for a bit more

Of the note, the flavor

What I was looking for

Steamboats

Watching the wheel churn 

Brown water from the North

Hauling barges and their cargo

To New Orleans and Barbados 

Much safer now than then 

For both Huck… and Jim. 

Don't Cry

I watch him

Almost ended life 

The quiet desperation

Health destroyed

His loved ones

Are now visiting

When cancer is almost done

They will sob

They will mourn

He just wants to say goodbye

And hug them 

Smile 

Don’t cry

Angels and stones

Can't sit down or stand up

It goes from back to front

Deep aching sword of flame

It rules all with iron fist

Pounding my left lower back

My eyes see stars through pain

Nothing works, hospital time

I wake her with the dawn 

She drives me in and waits 

Speaking for me, I only

Say hello and thank you 

Morphine touches nothing 

My Angel holds it all

Through seven dark hours

 

She watches over me

The two millimeter stone inside me

Undiagnosed

The pixels curve and wallow out.

The screen is bad or rez is low?

The colors smudge, but in a line,

Organic in its journey South. 

It takes a sagging turn due East 

Before it rounds the corner North.

Ever tighter ellipses seek

To distract 

From the plot

I'm watching...

My fingerprint on the projector lens!