I’ve kept this green scrap of construction
paper, the edges frayed after a lifetime.
My portrait, drawn with a child’s tool.
Into an aging woman wearing dirty sweats
in the hallway of a psychiatric ward, I turned—
me, a nurse in training. She grabbed my arm.
Silent, pointed. She chose
the evergreen crayon. Without lifting it
from the page, the woman scribbled
in this remarkable likeness,
my impression in green, the lines vanishing
between genius & insanity.

Between genius & insanity,
my impression in green. The lines vanishing
in this remarkable likeness
from the page. The woman scribbled
the evergreen crayon without lifting it,
silent, pointed. She chose
me, a nurse in training. She grabbed my arm
in the hallway of a psychiatric ward. I turned
into an aging woman wearing dirty sweats,
my portrait drawn with a child’s tool.
Paper, the edges frayed after a lifetime—
I’ve kept this green scrap of construction.