last days

Last days

Delicate music, birds, tree frogs, cicadas
singing their farewells to your life.
only eight years between us, your age
fell heavily on your now fragile frame.

We each have a time to die

A sip of orange juice, a moment of sweetness
on your tongue, parched dry in open-mouthed sleep

Perhaps your heart was broken too often.
perhaps you never found the healing
desired by all human hearts

What is it that catches our feet, dragging us
down, depths that swallow us whole,
eat up our vitality, spit us out as shells.

Roses etched on the window, the sun shines through
Life and death both present in this room, always with us.
Your breath is slowing now, sleep sweet lady,
your struggles are almost done.

 This poem was written after spending the morning with someone. I was with her as her family were unable to spend time with her much either. She had had anexoria for about 50 years and was terribly thin and her heart and organ were unable to keep her alive any longer. It is such a tragic story. She was only a little older than myself.