Terri L. French

Lift

After a routine EKG, the cardiologist’s medical diagnosis was that my upper right atrium possessed a “weird flappy thing.” In order to get a better look—and hopefully come up with a less obscure diagnosis—he scheduled a Transesophageal Echocardiogram. A thin tube would be passed through my mouth, down my throat and into my esophagus. The night before the procedure I dreamt a beautiful bird lived in my heart chamber, it’s wings beating to the rhythm of blood flow. Perhaps this bird would one day burst through my chest cavity with my heart held gingerly in its grasp, carrying it to a nest lined with downy feathers high on a hilltop where it would beat forever.

consciousness
the way it flutters
before it fades

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About the Author

Terri L. French is a poet/writer and retired Massage Therapist. She and her husband, Ray, have four mostly grown children and one spoiled dog. They now enjoy the nomadic life of full-time RVers.