After the Autopsy
by Elizabeth McBride

The poem is dry and shriveled,
pinned on the whiteboard
its organs neatly laid
on sterile trays
labeled with blue
and purple odorless dry ink,

the music of its synchronicity
now diagrammed on separate sheaves,
sweet spaces that
once pulsed
with passion;
disconnected chambers now.

The limbs though – they are taut
as if they’re reaching,
still to grasp, maybe
to offer gold
from far beyond
the poem’s last breath.

But there’s the eyes – they stare
not through you only,
they look for you – as if
finding you could
give you back
yourself…

and that
is all the poem
had meant to do.

Elizabeth McBride is a Fellow of the National Writing Project, an Amherst Writers and Artists Affiliate, and member of the Michigan Chapter of the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators. Ms. McBride’s poetry has been published in The Dunes Review, Third Wednesday, Seeding the Snow, Red River Review, and Scintilla.