Sucking, searching for air, she’s like a hooked fish dying bit by bit on a riverbank. Wringing rag, wiping forehead, singing lullabies, pushing ginger ale.

Like she taught me.

Really, I listen through phone to coughs and love words between coughs.

boots pacing
river’s peaceful trail
no pole this time

E. L. Blizzard lives in the US South with work in The Drabble, The Other Bunny, Drifting Sands, Bones, Ekphrastic Review, The New Verse News, FemkuMag, Friday Flash Fiction, Flash Fiction Magazine, Failed Haiku, and several others. Over years she’s worked in advocacy, allying with immigrants/refugees, cis/LGBTQ+ survivors of intimate partner violence, and those experiencing homelessness.