January Robbed Us

On the day when the sun’s haze
Was an opaque obscuring of clean,
Crisp air,
And the cold bit through the windows,
Did I hold your hand,
Did I make out your eyes.
You spoke to me through an oxygen mask,
Two words at a time,
In the wrong order,
And all I could think of
Was how much it hurt me
That your catheter was transparent.
I couldn’t move you;
I didn’t know if comfort were possible,
If a new position on the bed
Was even what you were looking for.

Addendum

Now you are gone,
It seems I was wrong,
To think of myself
Against a backdrop of chaos.
Lives touched by a
Chapter’s ending,
As soon as one’s heart is damaged,
So does commence the mending.