From the Archive: Jaime Forsythe (CAROUSEL 26)

Staff/ September 30, 2020/ Poem


Lavender Pulse

He was in a home, had soft bones, paused
for days between thoughts, but knew when
every one of us was born. All those phone calls,
triple ring of a rural party line as the entire block
eavesdropped. Never knew privacy. Walls
thinned to curtains; his skin became transparent.
Blow-ups of his organs; amplified tune of his heart.
The nurse was a man. The nurse was his son, and his
grandson, and his best friend from high school.
The nurse snuck him chocolate, leaked lavender
oil from a pocket vial over his wrists and said rest.

Jaime Forsythe is the author of the poetry collections I Heard Something  (a feed dog book from Anvil Press, 2018) and Sympathy Loophole (Mansfield Press, 2012). She lives in Halifax/K’jipuktuk, Nova Scotia. More:

Lavender Pulse
appeared in CAROUSEL 26 (2010) — buy it here

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