(x = space)
x
x
Late Cancer
(diagnosed, lived out)
x
My brother
Might have to be moved
Again
He is frustrated
Wants to be home
Before he wanted to be
Elsewhere
But elsewhere isn’t working out
I understand
The purpose of a medical setting
Is not to settle in
But to leave
When well
Stay is contraindicated
Home
As it cannot be managed
Still remains the prize
x
He’s in pain
Palliation only goes so far
Before the pain
Folds in again
He’s also frightened
I would be
I am in contemplation
Though these are his days
And shall the cancer
Diagnosed too late
A year ago
Take him to another home
Prepared
At last
To last
x
But there’s today’s pain
I don’t know how to wish
The pain to go away
Without invoking
The scary, heavenly alternative
But prayers aren’t magic
We aren’t dealing with a genie
Waiting to misstep
Our hopes
In misspoken entreaties
Heal my brother
Still
Is every prayer’s day
That might make nothing happen
‘Til the pain-releasing thing
Must happen
Tragically for us remaining
For him who suffers
Most of all
x
It is late December
I agree it is a magic season
How much amazing
Might be borrowed
From days
Of extra stars and circles
Green and all the other colors
Only for him
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C L Couch
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Photo by Kalle Kortelainen on Unsplash
[photographer’s narrative]
A crisp afternoon around 3pm in Dalsjöfors, Sweden these incredible snowflakes appeared on the hood of our car. You can almost hear the crisp snow creaking under the soles of the winter boots by just looking at them. Pure natural magic.
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