Atrial Fibrillation

This entry is part 6 of 15 in the series Ridge and Valley: an exchange of poems


Dear Dave,

Yesterday was the dull gray of a river stone.
This morning snow covers our neighbor’s roof,
sky the color of an indigo bunting’s cap.
Fresh from sleep we reach back for summer’s green,
fecund and ridiculous. At our feeder a blue jay
cracks open a seed to warm itself on the fire burning
in the hull. To the west fields are bare and my mother
wears a heart monitor. She rises slowly from bed
to bathe, hope against hope that her heart won’t flutter
like the wings of a sparrow, the furious beating
of a finch as it tries to bring the body into balance,
an agreement with the wind, the rhythm
of the blessedly invisible air.

Todd Davis


mixed-species flock of winter birds in raspberry canes


Series Navigation← November SabbathWhat I Wanted to Tell the Nurse When She Pricked My Thumb →

6 Replies to “Atrial Fibrillation”

  1. Thanks for the kind words. I’m always amazed by Dave’s good will to post a poem of mine and the kindness of those who visit his blog.

    This poem does come out of the present and out of the “real” life I live and my mother lives.

    The good news is that my mom had a heart cath yesterday, and the doctors found a healthy heart with no blockage.

    In addition, she hasn’t had any racing/fluttering episodes with her heart for two weeks. So we’ll wait and see what the doctor wishes to do with the A-fib.



  2. Todd, that’s terrific news! You must be relieved.

    I’m grateful that you’re willing to keep exchanging poems like this and share the results with Via Negativa’s readers. I mean, it would be even more awesome if you had your own blog and we could link back and forth, but I know what a Luddite you are. And besides, I enjoy getting a day off once in a while. :)

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.