Giant Visits the Nursing Home
I walked the sterile halls alone,walling my heart, afraid of whatI’d see. I found my mother first.You haven’t changed, she said, though I knewshe was merely hoping I’d say it back.Before I could speak, my father crieddown the hall. I guess his earsworked extra hard in lieu of his eyes,or else he smelled my fear, the sweat setfast in my palm. When I looked back at my momshe met my gaze, winced, said Time is running out,what can you do? I scooped her up, held hertight to my chest, rocked her then to the slowslug of her heart. I love you a bushel, I whispered,love you a peck. She threw her arms botharound my neck, making my hearta barrel in a heap. That’s when I knewI’d…
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The American Poetry Review (Digital) - 1 Issue, May/June 2022