{"id":3013,"date":"2016-12-01T03:38:27","date_gmt":"2016-12-01T03:38:27","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/poemeveryday\/?p=3013"},"modified":"2017-03-25T04:03:07","modified_gmt":"2017-03-25T04:03:07","slug":"suitcaseby-claire-scott","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/poemeveryday\/suitcaseby-claire-scott\/","title":{"rendered":"Suitcaseby Claire Scott"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"suitc\"<\/h1>\n

Suitcase<\/h2>\n

by Claire Scott<\/p>\n

It\u2019s your father you must come
\nreally? she expects me to see him?
\nto travel two thousand miles to see
\nthe man who sharp tongued me
\nstraight to Chicago, the man who
\ntold me & told me I was a dolt, a dope,
\na staggering disappointment<\/p>\n

my therapist chatters on & on
\nabout closure, regret
\nshe talks about forgiveness, not to condone
\nbut to unload the anger I lug around
\nin a worn leather suitcase with two shiny locks
\nI barely listen<\/p>\n

I arrive in time\/a ventilator breathes his breath\/
\nin long hissing sighs
\nmonitors beep & bleep
\nghostly lines zig & zag across the screens
\nplastic tubes snake from his starched sheets
\none loops to a yellow pouch<\/p>\n

what is left of my father lies on the bed
\neyes shut, mouth hidden by a plastic mask
\nhe can no longer talk\/no longer hurt
\nI hear my mother\u2019s voice\/my therapist\u2019s voice
\npick up his swollen hand & kiss it
\nwhisper you love him
\n& I do & I do &<\/p>\n

then I reach behind his bed & grab a plug
\nthe hissing stops
\nI walk out as September\u2019s sun
\nslant-shadows the parking lot
\nI set the suitcase on the back seat
\nbrass locks still glistening<\/p>\n

###<\/p>\n

Claire Scott is an award winning poet who has been nominated twice for the Pushcart Prize. Her work has been accepted by the Atlanta Review, Bellevue Literary Review, Healing Muse and Vine Leaves Literary Journal among others. Her first book of poetry, Waiting to be Called, was published in 2015. She is the co-author of Unfolding in Light: A Sisters\u2019 Journey in Photography and Poetry.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Suitcase by Claire Scott It\u2019s your father you must come really? she expects me to see him? to travel two thousand miles to see the man who sharp tongued me straight to Chicago, the man who told me & told me I was a dolt, a dope, a staggering disappointment my therapist chatters on &…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":3014,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_uf_show_specific_survey":0,"_uf_disable_surveys":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[53],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-3013","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-poem"],"aioseo_notices":[],"aioseo_head":"\n\t\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t