October 7, 2017

A distracted, harried woman on her way to work,

Collided with a truck,

Now an ersatz depiction of a sleeping woman,

Amid tubes and drips she lies.

She concentrates on the doctor’s light,

She knows it is important.

On the outside, appearance is insensate,

“Brain-dead,” the diagnosis.


An autistic Amerind of the Navajo,

He has never laughed, spoken nor cried,

Present at the tribe’s night dance,

“Poor kid doesn't even know his own name.”

He concentrates on the firelight,

He knows it is important.

On the outside, appearance is insensate,

His eyes lock with an image at the center of the flame.


An orchid in a greenhouse tucked amid blooms of gladiolas,

Full of color and fragrance, useful for formal events,

And gives pleasure when viewed,

But it won't interact or are we just confused?

It concentrates on the sunlight,

It knows it is important.

It shows a smiling countenance, lifts, grows strong,

On the outside, appearance is insensate,

“You can't carry on a conversation with a flower.”


How little regard some have,

For that which they judge unfeeling,

How fragile the connection, the understanding,

For that which they feel is incognizant.

Judgement from unfeeling minds and hearts,

From my point of view, such disregard-insensate.


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