brain blank
five days of sleep
did I dream? did I snore?
not on a hospital gurney
this hearth, this dog
this scent of home
it matters where we die
we don’t thank enough
the bronchioles, the alveoli
we don’t thank the leukocytes
for doing their job
for weeks outside the window
blue jays built a nest of twigs
brooded, brought bugs and berries
defended, dived at squirrels
as I did nothing, did watch
what I cherish
what I already knew
so simple
like soup and soft hands
what I cherish is
you
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Joe Cottonwood lives and writes in La Honda. His new book is Random Saints – Poems of kindness for an unkind age. joecottonwood.com