Outside his window, the hydrangea bush was brown and brittle. Melvin, thrashed, gurgled and gasped, and rocked his body limp. After dinner, another seizure, and Rachel cried. She held him on his side and asked the Lord for mercy. The next morning, she imagined thousands of blooms the blue Melvin’s work shirts used to be. She heard his voice, a warble, about all the work he needed to do around the house. Mow the lawn, repair the bench swing in the yard.
CALEIGH SHAW is a poet from Canton, Georgia. She is receiving her MFA at Oklahoma State University, where she is an Editorial Assistant at the Cimarron Review. She received her BA in Writing & Linguistics from Georgia Southern University and is the 2015 Brannen Creative Writing, Nonfiction Award winner. Her poetry has appeared or is forthcoming in 8 Poems, Ghost City Review, Roanoke Review, Maryland Literary Review, Moon City Review, and Santa Clara Review.
