Leaving Things Unfinished : Poem In Your Post

As the black wings close in on you,

their circling shadows blighting the sand,

and your limp legs buckle, far

from that shimmering oasis

on the horizon,

as you face the implacable,

hoping for one more lucky reprieve

which you feel in your quivering heart

will arrive a moment too late,

still,

even after the first white pill,

you will not surrender,

for back there somewhere,

safe from the hovering vultures,

is that sketchy

grand design, that revolution

on the drawing board—no,

all these years you've resisted

that sleek seducer, Completion—and now,

as the mask snugs over your face, you feel

your legs go young again, heading out

for the shimmering palm trees

they will never reach,

and you suck in great welcome gulps

of the endlessly possible.

                                      - Philip Appleman

A friend of mine had brain surgery this week.  It was postponed for four hours, and then took six hours to complete.  When she awoke, she encountered unexpected complications: paralysis of one arm, serious seepage at the site of the sutures.

She's been in ICU for days, cautioned not to move lest she worsen her state. 

Yesterday, after some smart maneuvers by her ICU professionals, she was able to move the fingers of her previously paralyzed hand, and the seepage slowed.  She's not entirely out of the woods, but she's on the path.

She's a writer and a musician.  I hope that when she's allowed to raise her head, she'll read this poem and it will speak to her experience.  I find it rather beautiful and offer it as a token toward the gods to conjure her continued recovery.

MFB,
L

p.s.  Thanks to Bill Moyers's website, where he recommended a number of poetry books.  I hopped to his interview with Appleman, and enjoyed the five poems read aloud during the original broadcast.  From there, I went to Appleman's page on Poets.org, and found three stellar offerings.