In March, she pushed a shining black calf
Into the world, and watched as it staggered
To wobbling legs waiting for her to rise.

She couldn't.
Pinched nerves,
Calving paralysis,
Unable to rise.

My brother and his wife
Bottle fed the calf for several weeks,
Waiting for a miracle,
For which the two had prayed,
And then one day the mother stood
Weak, shaking, but on the mend.

A couple weeks more,
And she was down again,
Stuck in front of the barn
With barely an appetite,
Drinking water from a bucket,
Resting upright in her own mess.

The calf was doing fine.

June 1 came, and field work to do,
My brother, ever patient, could wait no more.
Loaded his old 30-30 and headed to the barn.

He scratched the cow's forehead,
Told her she had been a good bossy,
And that he was sorry, and then looked at her.
He turned and emptied the rifle on the way to the house.

"Lord, it would sure do me a favor
If you were just to take her
So I wouldn't have to shoot her."

He returned to the barn and hayed the bulls.
On his way back to the water tank, he stopped
By his old friend and looked at her.

The cow raised her head,
And while my brother watched,
Her  eyes rolled up and back.
She sighed deeply, and then her head
Sagged down and she was gone.

He called me shortly after,
Still a little bit in awe,
A little bit in pain,
Glad to have me listen,
Though both our mouths were dumb
At the way God's prayers are answered,
And the ways His answers come.

I wake.
Stray beams of sunlight
Leak through the window that
The curtains failed to seal.
There is a welcoming warmth to these beams
Licking at my face.
It singes my skin just a little too much
To remain in bed.

I miss her.
The smell of her hair faintly seeps
Through the pillow we'd lie on
When watching netflix shows.
If I indulge too much, the scent fades.
If I don't delve in it at all
The what use is the smell?

Yet she hasn't gone anywhere - only physically.
I am yearning for memories that haven't been created yet.
I am longing to come back before I have even left.

The duvet is a little too warm,
The room just slightly too cold.
The coffee brewed in 2 minutes
Or less is neither sweet or
Bitter enough - the hum
Of the seemingly inept laptop cooler
Is neither annoying or comforting
Enough for me to want to replace it.

The tinge of impermanence in all this
Leaves something to be desired.
I don't want to go -
But I can't miss her if I don't.
I made the choice to leave this place
Because
I had no reason to stay.

I now regret that.
As soon as I decided to go,
Life gave me a reason not to.

The taste of this conflict
Tastes too much like the irony of life.

for all my life I’ve striven hard
not to be confined
by iambic pentameter
nor other metered rhyme

I stare at the ice. My cheeks are burning, my hands are trembling. She looks at me staring at it. I look away quickly but look back at the ice when I see her head turn. She knows I need it. I see it melting in the cups she is setting out. Water. I need water.

Beside me is the wing, and a propeller is thrumming so loud it's making my head ache. I can imagine it spinning so fast the separate prongs are a blur, but I cannot see them move. There are windows in front of and behind my seat, but just far enough away to where I cannot easily see out of them. Just the red of the wing at a glance. A glimpse of white, and the red.

She steps towards me... but stops at the row in front of me. Water? She taps another woman's knee. Would you like some water? Oh! No. Was her response. What? I think.  But it's free. She's giving it to you for free. I'm next. But then she turns away. Heads back towards the front. Noooo... she will offer me some?

Beside me the engine keeps thrumming and humming and drumming into my ears, into my head. The whole cabin shutters and squeaks and groans. A bolt is spinning loudly somewhere behind me. Maybe turning looser and looser until it falls off completely. This entire tin can is a *******. I am stuck inside the biggest *** toy ever created. We are vibrating up in the clouds, but who are we bringing pleasure? We are just the ones unlucky enough to get stuck inside.

Finally she turns to me. She is holding a tray full of tiny water bottles and small cups of ice. Water? She asks. Ice? Umm... both? I test her. She barely nods and hands me a plastic cup and a bottle. As I take them from her the coolness from the ice cup caresses my hand. Ice. Slowly I pour half of the tiny bottle into the tiny cup, watching the liquid. I take a sip and savor the taste. Water.

After a few sips, I dip my finger into the cup. Just the very tip. I take the droplet and smear it across my cheek. Then the other cheek. Cool, and refreshing on my flushed and burning face. Then it's gone. She comes back later and asks. More water? More ice? Yes. Both. This time I am not as careful; I pour as much of the bottle into the cup as I can. I'm holding the lid with one hand and the bottle with the other. The small plastic cup is clenched between my thighs. I try to set the bottle down after ******* the lid on but it falls the the floor. I lean across to pick it up and feel the cold. My water is spilling into my crotch, soaking my pants. My ****** feels cold and it's nice. Very nice. It is sad that all the water will be evaporated by the time we land.

After so much water I need to ***. I look around then stand slowly. Two steps forward. She steps aside. I grasp the door handle and step in, closing it after me. My hip touches the door and the other side. My elbows hit the walls. I turn around and ***. No sink to wash my hands. The room is stuffy, worse than the cabin. The smell of my own ***** is so strong I stifle a cough. When I flush, blue liquid seeps down from the top to the hole that opened for my waste. That's normal. But it keeps going. And going. Stop! I think. There's been enough water already wasted. As soon as I start to manually stop it, it shuts off. Good. I grab a sanitized napkin, rub it between my hands then go back to my seat.

The funny thing about this all, is that I am sitting in 3A. That is in the second row. This... this is first class.

Ironic. This is. Flying up so high and free... but still needing water. No matter where you go you need it. But even more ironic, is that when I crane my head back to look out the widow, I catch a glimpse of the ocean beneath us. So much water that we can't drink.

Just give me a day, I’ll figure it out
My mind can’t decide what to say
I wish I knew what this was about

Part of me wants to give up and pout
But my heart tells me to try until the break of day
Just give me a day, I’ll figure it out

Some days in my sleep I’ll let out a shout
The words of this poem decide they won’t stay
I wish I knew what this was about

This assignment fills me with doubt
It’s causing my brain to decay
Just give me a day, I’ll figure it out

Looking for a sign this is the right route
But the horizons are faded gray
I wish I knew what this was about

This poem has begun to sprout
In the end it’s finally okay
Just give me a day, I’ll figure it out
I wish I knew what this was about

So the clouds parted with the storm:
"This isn't us, this isn't our norm"

Seemed like no one wanted company
From someone they once depended for glee

**p. b. l. 04/18/2017

"And they lived Happily Ever After."
how clique
is what we think whenever we hear or see a happy ending in a book, movie or even in real life
yet when they don't get their happy ending why do we cry and wish it could be the other way?
how iconic huh?

I hated you
I hated you more than I probably understood how to hate
I hated your green eyes and I hated all of the time I wasted staring at them
I hated how you didn't believe in me
I hated how all I was to you was a story that you didn't have to read
but hate doesn't make sense
You can't tear down a tree just because it makes oxygen
If all I was was static than maybe you learned something
Maybe you learned tbat all of those colours on the TV screen were breathing
Maybe you learned the sounds of a heartbeat other than your own
Maybe you learned that somebody could love beautifully with every cell in their body,
Even if you couldn't
Things didn't have to make sense after you
I fell just as much in love with the things I didn't know as I had with your retinas
This is what stronger looks like
All of the cursive loops that make my teachers happy
I didn't understand how to hate you,
I was lost in all these memories that drifted in and out of my bloodstream
You were in there somewhere, I think
In there with all of the things love couldn't describe
Maybe you were a clot and that's why I left you
I did a lot of leaving after you
A lot of doors closed behind me
I lost a lot of good people
I didn't know that love was going to hurt me
I didn't know that love was going to tell me that I wasn't good enough
I didn't know that love could hide for so long that I thought it was dead and still come back,
Pretending to sew up all the damage in its unexpected wake
You were supposed to be beautiful