Was it unlucky
to be born with lungs
that struggle
to push air
through twisty canals
narrowing one night
until my face
turned blue
the bells of a a new year
had just rung
my parents sped across freeways
the ER accepted its youngest patient
oxygen administered
heaves of relief
my place on this planet
for now.

Was it unlucky
years later
to have caught a virus
my body transforming it into
a virulent strep
invading my fibrous core
producing a torrent of fluid
creating a vise grip around
my heart
squeezing it shut
laying in cardiac ICU
monitors squealing
of impending extinction
saved at the last moment
by a sprightly doctor.

Was I unlucky in health?
or was I fortunate
I was saved
again and again
providence stepping in
my misfortune.

A rock pulled from the earth
has many sides
twist it one way
a smooth plane emerges
twist it another way
spiky edges appear

your lens, vital.

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