Monday, 25 September 2017

A poem by Ellen Kathleen Smith

His Chest Pains Pain My Chest


How my bones are not his I cannot be sure.
How my actual teeth are not his teeth,
how my heart is not his heart baffles me.
That I am nothing without him and yet

eventually, inevitably,
his heart will cease to beat, his tears will cease
to fall, his joy will cease to be, and still
he says all is very well, very well.

We disconnect and I start digging for
anything that will make me closer to
the fatherland, my home, the only one
who’s always been, before I ever was.

He is in the future. I am only
following in his timeline, his footsteps,
his heartbeats, his handclaps, his wisdom, his
only daughter. I am his only one.

He is in the future. I am only
following along his timeline, his footsteps,
his heartbeats, his handclaps, his wisdom,
his only daughter, I am his only.










Ellen Kathleen Smith is a writer, artist, and art teacher living in Washington State with her
husband and chickens. She is a former (US) National Poetry Slam competitor and has facilitated
numerous creative writing workshops in her community. Her hobbies include bike packing,
stargazing, weaving, and starting new hobbies. Find her online at www.ellenksmith.com.

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