Touch: The Journal of Healing



Needle and Spoon

    for Buster

    by Eric Blanchard

This is how we . . .

envelop in our arms, smother

with smooches and nuzzle.

Pull loose skin from endoskeleton,

stick the steel spike in.

Stay still

while the saline bag


Watch darting eyes

succumb to numbness, until

the slow



Throw a ball. He

jumps and growls. We

laugh and smile

for as long as he has energy

or until it’s time to feed him.

Fickle, like an infant,

he must be coaxed with airplane noises,

plying tiny spoonful

after hopeful tiny spoonful,

until he

will no longer eat.

This is how we care, our

addiction, since cancer has claimed

appetite and vigor.

© 2016  Eric Blanchard

Eric Blanchard grew up in Houston, Texas. His poetry has been published in numerous literary journals and reviews, both on line and in hard copy, including Autumn Sky Poetry, Borderlands: Texas Poetry Review, Pudding Magazine, Amarillo Bay, and Poetry Quarterly. Eric currently resides and writes in Kettering, Ohio.

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Touch: The Journal of Healing

All rights reserved.