Ann Keiffer

Good Doctor Who

On Sunday night
my psychiatrist,
admittedly a
pretty strange bird,
surprised me by
making a whoos-call.
Wearing brown tweeds
and round spectacles,
he came and sat in a tree.
And every time he said,
I knew he was talking to me.
What’s more, just by
hooting all of his who’s for me
he filled every one of my prescriptions
for free:
a who for happy,
a who for content,
a who for peaceful,
a who for smiling in the dark,
a who for deep, deep
and dreamy,
feathery sleep.

 Photo Credit: Hamad Saber Creative Commons License Flickr


About Ann

I am interested in the strange beauty of brokenness, in transforming possibility in difficult times, in how we heal even when we can’t get better, in the alchemy of surrender, in the interplay of light and shadow, in the bounty of everyday wonders, in the gift of laughter…and writing about it, all and everything.

Recent Poems

Buy My Book