When it was my turn
to go in
I sat cross-legged
by the ventilator
and told my buddy
goodbye.
I could have cried
but he deserved more
than that. He deserved
what carries no weight.
Time.
Before the lungs fill
with river water,
and the dream oozes
away from fingers like
the texture of drowning
lotus petals no longer
caught between the rocks.
George Cassidy Payne is a poet from Rochester, NY. His work has been included in such publications as the Hazmat Review, Moria Poetry Journal, Chronogram Journal, Ampersand Literary Review, The Angle at St. John Fisher College, and 3:16 Journal. George’s blogs, essays and letters have appeared in USA Today, The Wall Street Journal, The Atlantic, Havana Times, South China Morning Post, The Buffalo News, and more.
See all his poems on Tea House here.
