Birds of Paradise

The birds of paradise show me their profiles. Standing in their shallow vase, they lean their heads out looking kind of stupid. Three thousand miles away, my daughter consumed an entire bag of cheetos. Unable to sleep or vomit, she called me in distress. So who is more helpless, these decapitated flowers or myself? Trying to relieve her suffering from so far away. I hear the hummm of the refrigerator; painless, an electrical appliance. While within me are the sufferings of a lifetime, unstemmed, helpless. I wish I could reach out and hold her. Comfort her pittering and sore heart. Soother her needless anxieties and sonstant affronts. Make it better...but I can't Beating on the door, but it won't open TO ME.