For All My
Angels
For all my
angels who have departed
For all my
green ones just getting started
For all my
seasoned fighters who sit and shiver
For all the
days we try to deliver
For the three
days you give up to dialysis to live the other four
For the vampire
machine which always wants more
For the needles
and the burn
For the blood
pump and it’s ceaseless turn
For the prick
and the pain
For damage to
the vein
For the
infiltrated access
For the
swelling mass and abscess
For every
milliliter of fluid counted and measured
For every blood
line that keeps you tethered.
For every false
transplant call
For every dizzy
after treatment fall
For every
blackened clot
For every toe
that turns to rot
For every kilo
pulled out
For the number
on the scale you somehow doubt
For the hulking
binder pills to swallow
For all the
rules you have to follow
For the
constant access cleanings
For the itching
and all it’s meanings
For the nausea
and sweating
For the
weakness that follows every bloodletting
For the fading
of your sight as you recede into the night
For all your
friends who lost the fight
For all the
blood you leave behind
For when all
that’s left of you is the rind
For every
soiled gauze and clamp
For every
cursed seizing cramp
For the tape
that tears the skin
For the
constant fear you living in
For every
penance owed
For every sin
reaped and sowed
For every
mother we’ve buried
For every
father we’ve carried
For all the
hope that’s earned today
For more
tomorrows on their way
For every
holiday celebration
For every loved
one’s graduation
For all the new
years you were never meant to see
For not having
to worry what might be
For every
single treatment is a second chance
For us your
faithful squires who stand by your side ready with another lance
Richard Bell
Richard
Bell lives in Greenville, North Carolina. He spends half his nights and
most of his days working to give people more time on this earth through
dialysis. What little time he has to himself, he spends with his wife and
daughter or drinking scotch and writing poetry, essays, or whatever
satisfies the itch. His work has appeared in the Reedy Branch
Review and Wildsound Writing Festival