POST-OP DREAM with CODA
here, countless rooms
of old houses
once mine, endless
hallways and wings
…I seek
the least of the least
alcove…
here a tiled wall
blue glaze of sails
and windmills …Dutch
Netherlands…
fresh towels shawling
a silver rod
here a closet for lamps
cubbies
shades upon shades (bulbs)
upon bulbs)
…a cord to save enough
of light…
here a gas kitchen
…stainless…
a pie on a bone-white counter
…spotless…
glossy colonies of blue
berries
there, a window
out there, a rock garden
early spring clump
…oh!…
of wild chicory
and over there, stones
on which
old wasps falter
petal by petal
the yellow jackets moult
into golden-veined birds
…they cannot fly…
All chambers unfurled.
CODA
I peel away
three mini
skin patches
blue
for tracing
heartbeats.
by Tee Zeehan
