Pain

A raven preens its feathers,

Its roost, a cottonwood with tiny new leaves.

A fox hunts--arcing nose-dive for a mouse.

We try to watch, a hopeful distraction from pain,

Relentless, stabbing, filling our bodies, our souls.

By night the pain fills his every cell, my every pore.

Ice, drugs, oxygen, no comfort to him

Shaking, moaning, crying.

I try to calm his writhing legs with gentle touch

To no avail. I am helpless with his torture.

His pain is my pain.

We quake and cry and do not sleep.

The night is a heavy shroud of agony

That suffocates thought and dreams.

We try to breathe, to swallow, to blink.

Pain snares us in her web—we cannot escape.

Pain crushes us with a junkyard press—we are helpless.

Pain lights a fire, scorching hot, we cannot douse.

Sunrise finally glimmers—will the throbbing stop?

Coffee, eggs, toast—can we pretend normal?

Breathe, blink, swallow.

The raven calls to claim the morning.

The fox hunts mice, so graceful in its leap.

The tree’s leaves grow each day, reminding us things change.