Autopsy in the Form of an Elegy

by John Stone

In the chest
in the heart
was a vessel

was the pulse
was the art
was the love

was the clot
small and slow
and the scar
that could not know

the rest of you
was very nearly perfect.

please note: art by Wesley Corn

Comments

  1. This one and the last are - enchanting, powerful. I wish I could follow your trail in finding these gems - and the perfect (and surprising) images.

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  2. Did you know that my BIL had a heart attack and fell down for a goner in Paris in the 15th arrondissement, while people on a Saturday morning on a sidewalk adjacent to a park just walked around him though he had bashed his head on the sidewalk, and a woman, an immigrant, in a famous bakery across the street, who has a heart problem of her own, stared, thinking something wasn't right and took her cellphone ever so slowly from her purse and called the SAMU but not slowly enough so that as the emergency tech told her later, "In a matter of minutes he would have been dead. You saved him." He was dead and now he is alive. And you posted this poem today, which is exactly the tale, except for the autopsy part...

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  3. Brilliant, just brilliant. Leave it up for Friday. And don't forget to dress in red!

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  4. this one makes you breath deeply and enjoy every sensation that causes....

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  5. Wow! The poem. The image. Blew me away.

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Hey, thanks for your thoughts and your time:>)

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