The Drawbacks of Crystal (A Journey)

icy branchToday’s NaPoWriMo prompt was to write a poem that involves an urgent journey… The journey I wrote about is still urgent, but repetition over the years has made these treks decidedly surreal.

The roads always seem to be icy
when our lives take a crazy turn;
I can’t recall how many times
I’ve driven him to the ER
on crappy roads.

It’s a delicate thing to be
immunosuppressed. It sounds
so pretty, like pressing
flowers in a book.
The reality is a tummy bug
turning vicious,
till he can’t keep liquids
down. Not so bad
for most of us, but
dehydration and kidney transplants
Do. Not. Mix.

All he needs are fluids,
so simple it seems, mere
replenishment;
in the surreal postcard white,
we call ahead, try to explain:
have an IV ready, and
in a few hours,
we’ll be all set.

But first there are the roads to consider,
the long roads, the other drivers
who look like they’re under water,
who have all forgotten how
to drive on ice.
The snow-haze freezes on our windshield,
from mist to fluid, and then crystal
glazing the wipers,
polishing the pavement
glinting like faraway stars.

If only I could capture it,
if only he could take it in
right now, the light
become fluid again,
filling him,
replenishing.
Maybe then he’d be
all right.

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