Two Poems

Midnight

I glance beyond window 
into the field across me 

and see nothing but darkness, 
not the wild animals that no doubt 

stir in grass, 
in tree branches, in silent nests,

a wilderness unknown to me 
with whole lives in that quiet cloak, 

carrying on without me
not in gratitude 

but expectation 
that to live means LIVING.  

I ease down the hallway 
to check on you and your brother, 

my children: asleep, sound.
What do I call myself? 

And when I call myself 
what I call 

myself, 

what does 
that naming leave 

unspoken? 

---

I Will Live Forever

You are the doctor. 
I am the patient. 

I get seven shots to my arm, 
for I am so sickly. 

You rub soap on my hair. 
Stick a thermometer in my ear. 

No tool from your doctor’s kit 
goes unused. 

You place a band aid over my forehead. 
You hold my chin. 

Better, you say.