For Better or Worse
I fight for the covers all night.
He tosses and turns, twists
the electric blanket around his body,
unplugs it and freezes me out.
His moans, cries to the Lord
break my heart. I lay my hands
on him, plead with God, asking
for relief. The dogs circle
and pace the bed, keep vigil
as he writhes in pain, whimpers.
Sleep eludes him, wakes me
at midnight. At one. At two. At three,
I follow the pups to the back door,
let them escape the misery he suffers.
Morning light bathes his body, naked.
I lay mine against his, willing
my good health into him. I want
to take his pain, carry it for him
and release it into yesterday.
- © Chris Wood 2022
Chris Wood resides in Tennessee with her husband and several fur babies. She works as a lease maintenance manager for a real estate management company, and is a member of the Chattanooga Writers' Guild, where she currently serves as their treasurer. Her work has appeared in several journals and publications, including Poetry Quarterly, Haiku Journal, and Quill and Parchment.
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