48 Hours

Again, fear and dread come
to throttle me out of
the peace I have found for
just one moment in time.
Again, paralyzed with
fear, I shriek the silent
scream of my much wounded
heart, heavy with the sting
of not knowing, spilling
tears and fears through my core.
Missing, he, my only
son, poisoned by illness
and drugs to keep him sane.
My mind, a toxic land-
fill of past loss, can but
imagine him alone
in danger of himself
at the mercy of those
who would suck the very
marrow from him and leave
him a pathetic pile
of wounds and confusion.
After forty eight hours
again, there is word of
his appearance miles from
home, in hospital. I
remember to breathe and
wonder when this season
of fear will reappear.


© cj Schlottman