Fights in Waiting
--
the German Shepherd who left and took my childhood
another family siloed by the fault lines of addiction
curled on the floor weeping without thought or reason
a sun
disowned by my father while on my honeymoon
the careful words of a sonographer as the ultrasound showed no heartbeat
my 8-year-old son saying “if this is Nana’s last night, we need to stay at the hospital as long as we can”
and a shield
mind and nerves damaged by a fever of 107
the slow death of boredom and regularity
long cuts across my stomach that never heal
shared wounds
medication and the pull of gravity
bankruptcy and medical leave
a faint lightbulb before the crashing waves
nothing and everything to live for