Midwifing My Father
For Brooks Staton, 1/15/15 – 6/14/05 I sit alone at his convalescent home bedside. His eyes are unfocused, unblinking. I […]
Nurses, Poems, Tributes
Tributes
Nurses, Poems, Tributes
Her Brother’s Pickhole
He still wounds himself every day for five decades now, breakfast till bed, his index finger spins tight circles at
Nurses, Poems, Tributes
The Traffic of Tulips
—for Nelson We have waited too long for Spring, a little sun, any small sign during this white of white
Nurses, Poems, Tributes
Dry Drowning
He comes walking into the ER, holding hands with a wife and a little boy. A big guy, he’s wheezing
Essays, Nurses, Tributes
A Split Personality
When I was fourteen, my Uncle John—then in his twenties—chased his pert, blonde wife through their neighborhood with an axe.