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I didn’t care that the pee was red.
It was still urine
slipping through the catheter line
and gathering
in the bag clipped to the rail of her hospital bed.
Not yellow.
Pink,
confetti-ed with clots of blood,
drifting.
A liquid answer from the transplanted kidney.
Sunrise in plastic.
Another day
holding the promise
of more.

January 2014
Julie Ayers

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