Patricia M. Twining-Obarski
Works

4 A.M. Watching Richard Sleep

In the blue light

Before dawn,

I run my fingers

Along your surgical scars

That crosses your abdomen

Like the mark of bear claws.

Watch, as you sleep,

Try to detect

Spasms of pain

Twist on your face.

Hope your dreams are unscathed.

Laugh to myself;

Think; what a pack rat you are!

Unread Readers Digests

Still in plastic wrappers,

Piles of books

On the great battles of World War II

Jumbled beside the bed

So unwilling to let go:

Thread-bare clothes,

Old letters from boyhood friends,

Your collection of comic books,

Hearken back to simpler times of youth.

How you still, strive for knowledge

In those history books!

I try to think

Of ways to comfort you,

Cool salves,

Magical herbal blends,

Angel food cake with ripe, red strawberries

I know it can not

Be enough.

I press the palm of my hand

Against your arm,

Warm, bumpy with needle sticks and

Find reassurance in your pulse.