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Final Fight This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

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The glint of sun in a mirror
drawing your attention.
The old hickory drawer
sits quietly in the corner.
A flashback,
a storm of memories.
The old brown farm with
Chiquita, a tawny barn cat
that was missing a patch of fur
on its left shoulder that she lost
in a fight with a coyote
sitting on the broken wooden fence
You check the drawer,
is it still there?
Reaching into the drawer
you feel the cool metal
On your fingertips.
The ironbound photo of him.
A cowboy hat,
jet black suit,
calm smile,
and a blue tie.
After being uprooted, all the turmoil,
A new country a new home,
A new language to learn.
he was still happy.
The anchor in the rapids for his family.
But he didn't know,
he didn't know his next challenge.
This time, it was his body that was
against him.
A final challenge he couldn't overcome.
The white hospital bed,
sterile rooms,
the sickening smell of ammonia.
A late night call,
the terror grips your heart.
You glance down at his cheery face again.
You wish he had known,
in your selfish and unjust rage,
you wish he had fought harder.
That the stationary television screen
next to the white bed sheets
would continue to send
jagged green waves across the screen
each followed by an unemotional
electronic beep.

This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.

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