Bed Bath

    by Ed Bennett

Like an infant

naked in a nest of sheets,

helpless in the hands of a stranger

the sweat of the previous night’s delusions,

the drug induced fear and cry

washed away with soap, healing lotion,

in the waxing rays of dawn.

Semi awake, eyes barely focused,

a clean gown swaddling,

a new pillow beneath one’s head,

one knows little except the face,

the intimate touch on fevered parts.

They sell us hope in the cathedrals,

prayers and canticles to an unseen god

but in this bed there is hope for the day,

a deliverance from trauma and despair

by hands and a cloth in the sunlight,

a tangible sacrament administered

to the naked and the afflicted

drawing grace from this living water.

© 2012  Ed Bennett

Ed Bennett is a poet and critic living in Las Vegas, NV. His works have appeared in The Externalist, Touch: The Journal of Healing, The Lavender Review, Quill and Parchment, and Lilipo. He is a staff editor for Quill and Parchment Magazine and the recipient of a Pushcart Nomination and the author of A Transit of Venus.