I heard something – probably my heart again.
For a thing that is busy all the time
Fostering emotions and fighting pain
It sure has the time to think about mine.
I hear it all the time – like its beating,
I feel that all the time. So I wait,
Place my hand over it and think of cheating
By saying, “Not faith, I tell you, it’s fate!”
No, it can’t be hoodwinked. It doesn’t slow.
And I sigh. It is faith. I know it . . . do I?
My mind smiles – just to show
That nothing is mine – not even that sigh.
My heart beats faster. I remove my hand.
I look at the carnations – red.
They are all around me. One fact I understand.
After a matter of hours they will be dead.
My heart slows.
“And yours,” says my mind,