Poem

CabinI dream lately of a cabin in the north woods.Somehow I had built it myselfUnskilled as I am;Modest, humble, unadorned.Gray slatted wood, shingled roof,A helix of smoke from the chimney,My dog half awake on the narrow front porch.I ’d have my books, my papers, my pens.All the time I had left, simply unspooledIn a repeat loop of sighs and shivers.There was a mountain stream down the hill in backAnd plenty of berries and nuts.One day I ’d see her coming through the treesNot some random hiker buther.For she had been searching for me.She had pieced together the route from Scraps of poems and fragments of lifeI ’d had left behind in my wakeShe specifically claimed to beseekingmeAnd stumbled upon this modest sanctuary.The dog would barely stir.She wouldn ’t have to knockBecause I had always been scanning the tree lineWaiting, from a rocker on the porchOr peering through the front window when the words dried up,Hoping for her to just show up one fine afternoon.Although I didn't deserve it.Like a naughty boy who gets dessert.The dream fades at this pointFor what follows belongs in a homeNot some rustic cabin in the woods Without water or electricity or money or fame.The dream fades when I am found.The alarm bleats, someone is shaking my arm.I wake, I am no longer lost.2/29/20

Source: Buckeye Surgeon - February 28, 2020 Category: Surgery Authors: Jeffrey Parks MD FACS Source Type: blogs