Tom

Tom

Zak Konakis

In the beginning There was this dream Not of His apple pie or bitter coffee But of ripe eyes Fresh for the plucking

The confines of the wheelchair Are in no way A place for a free spirit to roam. But a smile would never fade From those care free eyes.

Out of sight out of mind? How could I ever explain; Could he ever understand Words like malignant Or the meaning of You won't live for much longer?

Standing at the point Where hollow words meet But just beyond the other side of musing Peering like a flower never taught to grow Someone fond of living always will remember.

We are blessed. We endure

The lunacy and blindness And the pain of a tumor The neurologists shed tears; And as he laughed absentmindedly Sucking the olives off of his finger tips