This small room holds more
Life than I can understand.
Her body rumbles.
An odd sibilance
fills my ears with drones
and soon to come death.
Not sleep. Not coma.
Surely not life.
A pall spreads within
my heart’s chambers
As I know she is not
long for this world.
You sleep on a cot
your breath even
though sometimes you snore,
mimic her rattle and hum.
For a moment you, her child,
breathe in unison with her.
Your life in communion
with hers as it was when you
were born fifty nine years ago.
Bereft, I alone witness
your corporeal union
Just as I alone witness it’s
cessation at her last breath.
For Maureen, who left us on Saturday, May 17. Thank you for your life, and your son who is my love.