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I wrote this poem after seeing a photograph of a man carrying his dead child. The mother walked along side, hardly strong enough to weep. Deforestation had given way to a spring flood. - Dennis Fleming
Tired empty souls, they crawl towardThe grave behind the hospital curtain.
A thousand gravities,
The weight of woe.
Swallowing each obligatory step,
He carries what she cannot.
Anguish squeezes her eyelids shut
Obscuring the image of their ruin.
They age decades in minutes
That will devour them endlessly.
Dennis Fleming started his career as an industrial microbiologist, and is now Vice President of Regulatory Affairs at Celsis Laboratory Group, a contract testing laboratory for the pharmaceutical industry. The safety and efficacy of marketed drugs has been his primary concern for 20-plus years.
Image courtesy of Ernest Orlando, Lawrence Berkeley National Laboratory.
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