I once had a nurse named Ivy, When I
was at Mercy Hospital D-Toxing.
She wasn't poison, and didn't wind and wrap
around my room giving it that garden green and
alive look.  There was never any doubt that I was
surrounded by four beige walls, and two locked doors
at the end of those long torturous halls that I walked daily.

She was a short squat thing with big eyes and large
plump thumbs.  The name Ivy didn't fit her.
My daughter's middle name is Ivy.  She is breathtaking--all
pumpkin pie colored hair.  She has the temperament of
autumn too, just like her mama.  It feels like a stomach
virus to be apart from her.  She twists and tightens around
my broken heart... We **** sure picked the right
name for her