Ode To The Surgeon; Portrait Of A Daughter by Debbie Smith

Ode to The Surgeon

Five belly stabs—with exact precision—each a purposeful incision     

The keyholes reveal nothing less than a magnificent mess

Assistance required was the forthcoming decision

Now four hands, not two—now three hours, not one

to complete the task of amending my wayward innards

Upon the table my guts get revised

The brightest lights do not come to my eyes

Absorbable sutures vanish to make way for new scars

Bandages hide all the wounds that now are

Two healing hands have stitched with intent to mend and repair

One grateful heart appreciates all of her care        

Portrait Of A Daughter

Innocent girl working out math

Squeaky clean after PJs and bath

Pencil in hand, eraser at the ready

—alone at the table—under a halo of ceiling light

Oblivious to the click of a shutter

The heart of a photograph captured, through a parental lens in the shadows

On a regular day—before a divorce

A cherished image to outlast them both

A perfect memory for an imperfect life