Andrew Riutta
The Heart of the Matter
The doctors just don’t seem to know what to do for her, my young niece. Her heart stopped last Thursday night in the hospital and didn’t beat again, without nonstop CPR, for nearly an hour. Since then, she’s been mostly unconscious yet having violent seizures. Not to mention uncontrollable spikes and drops in her blood pressure. And so, at this point, they surely aren’t able to tell us the scope of her brain damage … the full extent the black hole she nearly stepped all the way into, warped and twisted her. If there are yet glinting star clusters inside whose light wasn’t completely devoured by it. (If she’ll still be able to remember her sweet Pomeranian, Pete.) At work, I keep slipping into the chapel on my way to do the trash, looking up for just a minute or two at Christ on the cross. Maybe three or four.
a liftoff of pigeons—
Sabbath bells muffled
by the falling snow
About the Author
Andrew Riutta was born and raised in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. His latest book, Blessed: Modern Haibun on Almost Every Despair (Red Moon Press, 2022) was shortlisted for the Touchstone Distinguished Book Award and won the HSA Merit Book Award for best haibun collection. Currently, he lives in Gaylord and is a Catholic school custodian.