The Letter

The clinic forms, same old questions.

Name, address, next of kin, a few

allegations about my health.

Then, 'Blood Type.'

My pen paused, hovered over the line.

Blank. A tiny gap in what I knew

about myself, this core fact

I'd never really learned.

Only remembered some card

from years back, a brief donation.

Had to ask the receptionist, a small

query, a soft hum of lights.

She clicked, typed, looked it up, just

another letter, a plus or minus.

A thing that runs through me,

but means nothing until it does.