Black Walnut Creek
A winter brook flows to
Warmer, muddier waters. What we call
Love, eternal babblings over stones,
Flushing into spaces of courts and divisions
Around the bay. A body handles
Only so many transfusions,
And each heart becomes unforgiving.
Love, greedy Leukemia, and lethargic,
Everything good must first be killed
To ready the marrow for transplant.
Where love once cast at first sight,
Blood bleeds into the occipital lobe
And blinds the dreams that bind,
Flushing into spaces of courts and divisions
Around the mind. He has signed
The DO NOT RESUSCITATE Order,
And blood became thicker than water.
Categories: Poetry
elbrookman 
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