Cotton sheets cling to my skin like a burial shroud.
Memories of Mom arise. Her pain-soaked blue eyes, looking out from a frustration-worn face, pulsing oxygen through nasal tubes insufficient for her to rise from bed.
Speculations emerge. Students laugh away the opportunities I offer. Networks with whom I negotiate ignore my recommendations. A torrent of career-ending opportunities buffet a floundering career.
Finally, a single image ripples across the imagined dark waters of Pine Meadow Lake — a crucifix. Realization accompanies it: “I worship a crucified God.” It is an epiphany, an outstretched hand reaching for me, as storm-tossed waves swallow me for the last time.
in the dark
more by FRANK J. TASSONE
photograph by IV Horton
first published in Image Curve, March 16, 2017
for dVerse Poets’ Haibun Monday — Silent Sounds; Frank Hubeny pubtending