Inpatient

I hear the birds – those robins

     speaking to each other outside my window

and a pit drops into my stomach

                                                when I think of you

 and imagine myself as you

                                    feeling trapped in a tower

                              unable to be with the birds of spring.

                                    

Now you may not love robins in spring time,

                                    but there is something so sweet to you

                                                                                                that you must

     be missing it

                                                                                    feeling the loss of it.

                                                I would feel my life being sucked from my skin

                                           if I couldn’t go outside

if I couldn’t hear

and smell      

and breathe in

                                                the living world.

                                                                                       

So I imagine myself as you

                                    though I am not you.

            And I feel sorrow and loss and anxiety

                                                            that you have more to endure

                                                with uncertain outcome.

I am sad, I am scared,

                                         I am grieving.

                                                                                                                                                                                 3/26/03

for Shannon