I Thought Of Dorothea

Her sisters stood by the hospital bed
and covered the frail legs of Dorothea
with a fringed blanket from home

I thought of Dorothea with a full
head of hair, and two strong
legs to run a Boston Marathon

warm tanning lotion by her
side, Khaki shorts with a
brown Leather belt, and a
fresh bottle of Spring water

One sister held her hand and
told us about Dorothea's cooking,
her Collard Greens, Taters and
Sweet Potato pie, wanting seconds

When the family left, I was holding
Dorothea's head up from the pillow
to give her pain med. I drank in the
liquid of her gentle smile.

Her legs so weak, an almost amputation,
It was a thought, a medical plan in place.
Diabetes is a bitch, she told me. It is the
Monster that I race against.'

I placed the pillow between her knees and
turned her body seven times that night, only
to find her body wanting another turn, another
restless moan. Nothing seemed to work.

Dorothea held on to the bed rail and I saw
the distance in her eyes, a meadow wide
a running space, a maze of green Yews and
Juniper, a rush of Summer wildflowers, and
the final light of a long Summer's day.

by Louise Marie DelSanto

Comments (1)

Angel-I want to sprint, lungs and heart bursting resolute, through that last stanza, through, 'the final light of a long Summer's day.' And into relief of what lies beyond, where distances are resolved in the twinkling of an eye, and God comforts evermore. Thanks for the sweet with the bitter, Phillip