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(mostly) short poems on life and love

food for the soul?

October 29, 2016 by Michael Guerin

he spoke about food for the soul
as if it were a bucket fit for being filled

with something tangible like cold
clean water pumped deep from a well

and therefore capable of being poured out
or carelessly spilled, i suppose.

and as i strolled the spotless halls
at st clare’s hospital, the air heavy

with a sickly-sweet scent of disinfectant
i had no idea what words like those

were meant to convey on my way to his room
with a neatly folded copy of the post.

with shades pulled closed i kept a silent vigil
by the bed so he wouldn’t be alone,

and when those final labored breaths came thick
through cracked and swollen lips

he placed his hand in mine
until there was nothing left to hold.

Photo by Erkan Utu from Pexels

About Michael Guerin

writer, dreamer, lover, seeker. labels never reach the heart of any matter, but they might be a place to start...

titles available on amazon.com

ocean rain
Flowers for Rumi
beneath the waves
Found & Lost
Nature Speaks
still life
between black & white
mind & machine
world thru a window
Ghosts, Flames & Ashes

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