Comments about Matthew Welschire
The Breathing Of The Dead Ear
twisted knots within holding hands.
what is this instant form?
smile away Elizabeth, do not seem happy here!
not after you explained the ribbon and ring.
hardened carbon that sixty-two years prior
knew only you.
at this moment you hold younger hands.
systems shut down. organs find white flags.
younger hands open doors: code blue halls,
white-coated member mess hall: dark.
turn my back, nesting and ill, eyes stone bruised,
smock and gurney and sutured whole.
the crumbs: once delicate marrow; now ten fingers
singed in pumice, in ...