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Leah Fritz

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Dr. Katz

I drifted into darkness’ Lost & Found...
No nightlight by my bed, dark curtains bound

the shadows in each time they blew against
the open window. Undercover, tensed,

‘I pray the Lord my soul to keep,’ I chanted.
(So young were fears of death-in-sleep implanted.)

Defying that from which I might not wake,
I did not pray the Lord my soul to take

out somewhere in the night, away from home
among the dancing skeletons, alone.

‘Expect you’ll last at least a century,’
the doctor laughed when he examined me -

old Dr. Katz, who gently saw me in,
and I saw out. Ashes in death’s bin

shifted to make room. When all are dead
they will rise up again, the preacher said.

And now that century has gone, and I
am old as Dr. Katz, who did not lie

but laughed to see the healthy child he brought
into my mother’s arms... strong arms I sought

in shadowy trees through flimsy curtain folds,
now motionless, as death shuts in the cold...

 

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