They work their way across the wide lawn
by means of a Frisbee. The thinner man can
barely throw, can't catch. He drops the Frisbee
and his body to the cushion of early spring grass.
His companion kneels beside him, retrieves the disk
and turns it like a steering wheel, as if driving them
to a happier destination. If this were only about
imagining, I could create from their desire
a happy ending: restored health, long lives.
But their story isn't mine to alter as they rise
and proceed to the clinic door. Two bodies,
Martha Christina is a frequent contributor to Brevities and Three Line Poetry. Longer work appears or is forthcoming in the Aurorean, Bryant Literary Review, Blast Furnace, Main Street Rag, and The Orange Room Review. She lives in Bristol, RI.