What he wanted most was to save lives but in the end he could not even save his own. People arrived with their tattered minds and troubled dreams and he gave them hope. Inspiration found in stories, age-old remedies designed to repair the damage over time. Compassionately he cried, unable to maintain a professional distance. Giving them everything he had – piece after piece of himself until there was nothing left.  Like the delicate head of a dandelion blown to bits. Airborne. Adrift. Dismissed. Resigned. Awaiting reassignment. Opening his mouth to be fed. Complying the best he could to comprehend. Sensing in the stories told to him these attendants were his friends.

Excerpt from Light-Years in the Dark: StoryPoems (see more)

photo-art design by todd crawshaw