This made me recall my emergency ileostomy five years ago, when I was extremely ill with C. Difficile that came very close to killing me, and that too, is reflected in my piece today.
Jan. 10, 2014
…Nothing belongs to us. – Rainer Maria Rilke
Words to craft poems
don’t belong to me. They’re
the same words of poets past,
of poets yet to come.
I share my words with others.
Only their order on the page
makes them, for a moment, mine.
Even the time I live on
borrowed, gift of a surgical knife.