Eighteen and Up
by Nadine Shanks
There are gray giant double doors
to enter the Emergency Department.
So simple to push open and enter,
one swing enough to say goodbye.
Instead I hold my year-old cousin
on my lap in a small-doored room adjacent.
Minutes pass by, baby bouncing bubbles
on my lap, fussing for his mother.
My parents and aunt are inside,
gone to see my grandfather for what only
I know will be the final time.
Holding his cries to my chest,
I stand pacing in the waiting room,
thirteen and unsure
how to comfort his growing wails.
As we walk the stark hallways
he begins to quiet.
The windows are clear- not one streak and
the small garden outside them is a vibrant green.
So silent, I can hear only the ringing
in my ears, the AC pounding the walls.
This is where I watch Death walk.
She is a simple visitor.
Quiet in her approach:
a chaste licorice kiss brought
along to answer final calls.
Frankenstein’s Monster.
"She is both messenger and deliverer. / Veiled beauty in onyx black, / Malice does not know her name."
She is both messenger and deliverer.
Veiled beauty in onyx black,
Malice does not know her name.
Her hands are a delicate framework
of warm bone, she caresses every face
as she walks by.
Yet, not one pair of swollen eyes
ever lands on her resting smile.
Death: ethereal.
A step away, she smells of spiderlily
and winter water breeze.
When her hands reach my face,
my fingers flex once into tender baby flesh
and release as a breath pushes past trachea.
From my eyes, to my cheeks,
to my lips, to my chin.
Her fingers are smooth as a banister,
her smile as sincere as the richest of sonnets,
her eyes as honest as the dying man.
She trails my cousin’s face
with the outside of her index finger,
And for the briefest of moments I meet her
eyes.
And again she began her procession,
Moving person by person
to the giant double doors
at the end of the hall.
In a swing, she is gone,
and we are left alone with the garden.
About the Writer...
Nadine Shanks is a senior at Douglas Anderson School of the Arts with a focus on Creative Writing. She has published a minor collection of poetry in Scholastic Art and Writing. Centered around ideas of identity and childhood, she predominantly writes in memoir and poetry.
About the Artist...
Jiranan Lowchaiwakul is an 11th grade visual artist at Douglas Anderson who majors in printmaking. She enjoys doing block printing, painting, and photography.