laurawhiterivers

I think of you every morning

I think of your pain – the struggle for breath and dignity you have been forced to.

You see, I promised myself I would not let you become the disease with me.

I see the morning sun and I think of your heart.

It is bright like gold and copper

I drive by the tattoo parlor and I think of your charm.

I become the blue bird on my ribs for just an instant as I remember how your beaming proud smile filled three rooms-

proud of me – bright as day.

Periwinkle you picked.  I let you pick the color.  It was your bird.

The needle in my rib did not hurt near as much as the memory does tonight.

But I knew the road would lead here.

Even as I drew down the pain – I knew

you are beautiful

and soon to be free as a feather – the bright blue bird I carry with me.