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I sink into shadow as she wheels you in, the snap of her uniform -- sterile and crisp -- fires the air and destroys somehow the tin-tabled roses next to the bed. While I crinkle the green cellophane and arrange the oranges, while I breathe the dust of the grapes and wish that I too were sedated. Your sleep seems easy and natural, but your thin white hand flutters faintly like the dove I peppered with bird shot that day you taught me to shoot the 12 gauge. Defiantly you heave a sacramental sigh Up, up past the circling buzzards into the silence of icy blue skies. While I breathe the dust of the grapes and arrange the oranges.
Rick Davis is a seasoned playwright recently exploring the world of poetry. With six full-length plays, 13 children’s musicals, and 23 one-acts to his name, Davis’s work has been widely performed and awarded, with productions spanning from NYC and LA to theaters across the U.S. and Europe. Ten of his plays have been published, marking a successful career in theater, while this venture into poetry represents an exciting new chapter.