leave you

Leave you with one last poem: off to camp now.

The whir down the hall

Is the machine

That helps her

Breathe

And

The light was on

in

The room that cradles her;

She sleeps

Sitting straight up,

hole in her throat

Being pumped

With air;

And her burns around her

Neck,

Soundlessly

Everyone is sorry

No one knows

My 21 years of living

Never have known a fight like this

Told to do many things..

Learn her

Songs before

She leaves,

Learn her poems

Before departing,

And acknowledge the tide;

Know how to mend

The tattered clothes;

Learn her songs and

Know that we all

Have our endless numbered

Days

Her hands are still soft

And voice raspy

She has chosen to believe

In the falling leaves

And

Holds hope close

While misplaced dreams return

-my hands remember hers

As I circle ‘round the turn

In my endless numbered days.