for Arash Lavian, M.D. Inhaling the early morning air, light,     soft, up the hill from the ocean, I go to be pricked. The shots enter my lower spine. A circuitous     spin through the canals this Monday.  Is the doctor’s spirit infused?  More to this poke and     wipe.  His fingers have touched the smooth skin of his infant child. Something … Continue reading Peggy Aylsworth Poems, Day 2: “The Magic This Time”