We placed the brick pavers one by
one, red the color of old blood, in
between discussions of surgical drainage,
catscans and ventilators.

Six one day, four the next, none for
a week when the fever rose and the
blood pressure dropped and the
white blood count was more than
twice the normal value.

I watch as the path grows and
think a lot about the color of the
pavers like the color of her heart,
the toughness of the brick like the
toughness of her character and
the slow progression that mimics
her daily life in ICU. The garden
path and her path are intertwined
for me, both moving intermittently
but with purposeful determination.