Ninety years old and
can’t control bowel movement.
Stepping away, if only atrophy
did not make such swift improvement.
He knows I am crying,
but not what crying is.
His tears spring
from fear of the fire
he smells from WWI.
The heart monitor says
he’s slowing
slowing down.
I prepare the bed
sheet to cover him
—it won’t be long now.
And his dying words to me
went something like this:
“If no one else is here
then it is you I’ll miss.
And if a dying breath
breaks your page with pen,
know only this:
love does not exist
in the hearts of men.
I love you.”
Euphemism Campus Box 4240 Illinois State University, Normal, IL 61790-4240 |