Poem of the Day

(It's been awhile since I've done one of these . . .)

Poetry Reading
by Linda Pastan
from An Early Afterlife

Your words are like the knife
in the hand of my surgeon father
whose completed face was hidden
from me by that green mask,
whose eyes were so focused
he could see every organ,
every arterial river laid out
before him - a map of the world
for him to choose from.
And though that knife could kill
as well as heal, still I was willing
to lie down, belly up, like a young wolf
before the alpha dog, trusting him
with my defenseless life.