The Surgeon's Blade
by Stephen M. Dickey
Months in the shadow of the surgeon’s blade
Now seems long gone, though sutured to a scar.
Some memories loom larger as they fade.
There wasn’t any deal God might have made,
Nor did you have some gaseous lucky star--
Just months hungover from the surgeon’s blade.
Death’s near-visit left you a bit more grayed,
Though its aftermath also raised life’s bar.
Some memories hit stride even as they fade.
Soon enough, days rushed back in their cascade
To show how frail your high stakes are,
How prone to fray after the surgeon’s blade.
Some days, it feels like maybe you got played--
Death and the surgeon left a door ajar.
Some memories grow darker as they fade.
A time will come when future stays are stayed.
Internal scars will surface from afar,
Dim months hungover from the surgeon’s blade.
Some memories loom larger as they fade.
Now seems long gone, though sutured to a scar.
Some memories loom larger as they fade.
There wasn’t any deal God might have made,
Nor did you have some gaseous lucky star--
Just months hungover from the surgeon’s blade.
Death’s near-visit left you a bit more grayed,
Though its aftermath also raised life’s bar.
Some memories hit stride even as they fade.
Soon enough, days rushed back in their cascade
To show how frail your high stakes are,
How prone to fray after the surgeon’s blade.
Some days, it feels like maybe you got played--
Death and the surgeon left a door ajar.
Some memories grow darker as they fade.
A time will come when future stays are stayed.
Internal scars will surface from afar,
Dim months hungover from the surgeon’s blade.
Some memories loom larger as they fade.
Stephen M. Dickey has published poetry in various small journals, including Blue Unicorn, Shot Glass Journal, and The Road Not Taken.