I asked a woman tonight about her owl tattoo. She told me of being in prison, of seeing the ground owls outside and caring for one who was wounded. She was the only one they allowed to approach. Letter from a Ground Owl I watched you wanderfrom wall to wall as I lay in the […]
Author: annaspackman17@gmail.com
2/30
Singing for the Patient with a Head Trauma Who Says “I Love You A Lot” Every Few Seconds 1. You think it is meant for someone else, even though you are alone with him. You must have misunderstood. 2. You meet his eyes and laugh, nervously, when he repeats himself. You are embarrassed, though no […]
1/30
November 1st The sun was swallowedhours ago, but the streetsare safe now – the world isn’t scary anymore.I walk by the suburban-forestpalaces, orange and purplelights hanging groggy welcomesfrom last night. A few dropsland on my jacketevery few seconds, clinginguselessly for blocks. My steps are machinery.Moving feels safer –my surroundings rearrange,the people walk byand forget the […]
On Resonating
I can’t think of where to start so I am starting in the middle and working out from there. Sometimes writing is throwing a pot. I have never cried in a patient’s room but my eyes were precariously close to spilling today. A 2-year-old girl with Down’s, her hair thinned and almost all gone, has […]
(Source: https://www.youtube.com/)
(Source: https://www.youtube.com/)
Heart speaks.
There are so many things I could write about. Watching her brave face crumple as soon as she collapsed against her physical therapist, legs frail and body exhausted after walking 45 steps down the hall. Singing Alicia Keys as she walked, as she sobbed in her bed for ten minutes after. I could linger in […]
why is it not a thing
to call in heartsick bed fortressed byempty bottlesof wine/Nyquil/whatevertissues crumpledin with the bedsheets I am taking good careI will be in tomorrowI must have got hit hardwith something dreadful.
Here, holding
Heart is crowded tonight –its swollen waterskin – the tension it takesto keep a surface. I thinkit is just an illusion,as I listen to Death Caband remember curling into youon the leather couch cushions.I watched my friend cryas I left her lighthouse porchand my eyes sang back her ocean hymns.I am often unsure of whois […]
(Source: https://www.youtube.com/)