Today’s November Poem a Day prompt is “Window.” In recognition of World Diabetes Day, here his one is in honor of my hero.
Peak through a window Into the life of my hero, Who, since the age of seven, Has had a cellular thirst, Who has stuck her fingers So many times That her fingertips can bleed With just a squeeze. Peak through this window. What do you see? I’ll tell you, she Is one on whom the smile Has remained In spite of it all To this very day. © Randall Edwards 2021
The Writer’s Digest is hosting its annual Poem a Day (PAD) Chapbook Challenge. Day Twelve’s prompt is “a number poem.” Saturday is World Diabetes Day. A child’s T1D diagnosis is punch of reality into solar plexus of parenting. T1D begins a ubiquitous counting into one’s life.
This is an adaptation of a homily I gave on Christmas Eve which is found in my book of Christmas stories titled, The Night is O’er.
3, the number of days it takes for what I believe To be true, to be confirmed. 45 minutes from when my wife picked our daughter up at school till she called from the doctor’s office with the results of 2 tests which confirmed the diagnosis that our youngest, 1 of 3 lovely children had what 39 other children in the U.S. would be diagnosed with on that day. 11 miles or 20 minutes from our house to the Baptist Hospital's Emergency Room. It is 9 floors up Ardmore Tower to room 810 at Brenner Children's Hospital where we will stay for the next 3 days. On the evening of the 2nd day I am nervous, as I prepare to administer my daughter's 4th injection -- her 1st full day of injections for the rest of her days, and she is nervous. She is nervous because in her mind it still counts as a shot. I am nervous because I count it the same, and this is my 1st time giving 1.
with backward mutters of dissevering power 