Redeem

The sun was losing
a long gold tooth

on the linoleum
of the labor and delivery ward.

I lifted my plastic bracelet to the green eye
of the barcode gun and it sang

the first note
of money’s national anthem.

Redeem, a word with its feet
in the cement block

of bribe, of buy. Each Tylenol,
a tiny egg in the nest

of the nurse’s cupped hand,
rematerialized weeks later

on the itemized bill. Nearby, a sign
on the fine diamond storefront:

GOING OUT OF     SIN     !

Redemption, a mercy

of wind, of one idea
asleep in another.

I had been the nation
you lived in. Like a shore

in lapping water,
you made your borders

expand a little
with each breath.

Source: Poetry (April 2024)