When the Door Closes

My secret life as a poet, writer, photographer…



Tracy listened
but could not hear
beyond the thundering
tattoo in her ear.

Two small clauses
and her peaceful journey
crashed in the shallows –
an immaculate sea,
it turns out,
churning with debris.

“I’m sorry. It’s malignant.”

©2015 V del Casal All Rights Reserved

Essa climbed
the thousand steps
with reluctance,
cursing these risers to the sky
with a vengeance.
She cried
upon reaching the top,
stranded, it seemed, for eons.
But Essa battled back down,
stumbling on the uneven treads –
off-balance –
and when she reached the ground
raised a fist to the air
in triumph.

Posted in Response to the Daily Prompt: Edge of the Frame
© 2014 All Rights Reserved

Where all the Others Go

Harry died a month ago,
and I didn’t know
until today
upon reading the alert
about his archived chart.

I didn’t cry, though,
just a moment of woe
before chaos erupted,
and the clinic began,
patients struggling in, wan.

And so Harry will follow
where all the others go –
to memories,
that nebulous space
without nights or days.

Inspired by the Daily Prompt: Memory on the Menu
© 2014 All Rights Reserved

No More

Albert was sentenced two weeks ago,
a sucker punch to a gut already sore.
Angry, bewildered, and refusing to swallow
that nothing could be done for his Stage Four,
he grabbed at the pills offered reluctantly –
if only for one more day and night
or another month, he begged greedily.
And the sun rose and set for a fortnight,
the finest witnessed in his entire life.
But the rain bucketed down today,
the sky heaving with battle and strife;
Al looked at the pills in his hand with dismay
then said “No more” before striding out the front door.

Inspired by the Daily Prompt: Reason to Believe
© 2014 All Rights Reserved

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