His toe was blacker
than some hearts,
his heart sicker than he knew.
He slept peacefully in the chair
all twisted like corkscrew willow.

"Bring back with patient",
read the sticker on a folder
he clutched with both hands
like an only possession.
It fell away.

I caught it
but held my breath,
a young boy, afraid to catch
the age that brought him here
with his black toe
and grey hair.

I saw him again in November.
His leg was gone.
I helped him put on his coat.
I never saw him again.

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Comments 4 comments

poetlorraine 7 years ago

oh that actrally moved me more than you could imagine, but i don't know why..... will come back to your work later in the day, to give it the justice it deserves.... wow. Love your profile piece, very clever...... although i have fanned you, i need to get to know your work better, i will probbly become a nuisance, sorry for that

Don W profile image

Don W 7 years ago Author

Thank you poetlorraine. Just started putting poems on Hubpages (or anywhere). It's nice to have an outlet. And I'd be happy for you to share what you think of some of these. Not a nuisance at all.

Daniel Carter profile image

Daniel Carter 7 years ago from Western US

Almost like the steps in grieving. Letting go a piece at a time. What a horrible feeling that is to me, but how I appreciated the way you described such a tragic process. Thank you.

Don W profile image

Don W 7 years ago Author

Thanks for your insightful comment Daniel.

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