The Malady The Doctor Missed

The psychiatrist

left her doctor's office

  invisible,

  voiceless.

Her cysteine blue eyes fell

  dusky,

  dewy,

  dolorous.

She couldn't imagine missing our

  graduations,

  marriages,

  careers,

  children.

At seventeen,

I couldn't imagine missing

  her.

Nestling beside her I said,

"On heaven or earth you will be there."

Knowing I feared losing her she lulled,

"You have nothing to be afraid of."

Years later,

  invisible,

  voiceless,

my cysteine blue eyes fell

  dusky,

  dewy,

  dolorous.

Remembering my mother,

I left my doctor's office

for a knowing

  look,

  touch,

  and

  word

that I learned

when nurtured over time

  could heal

the malady the doctor missed.