lying so still one
can barely see a breath
no movement from the
eyes but a stare
thoughts turning
like the blades of a windmill
notice the scent of
the flowers in the vase
listening to the din
of voices down the corridor
and the echo of
tunes on the radio next door
waiting for the
arrival of a friendly face
a nurse bringing
medication on daily rounds
a therapist
stretching limbs, softening muscles,
a loved one who
brings a smile, a touch, a wish
to live in the past
when life was joyful, pleasant
once one is gone,
life will be a shadow
full of the spectrum
of gray light that tears
a heart to shreds
and makes one suppose
that the end of the
path is in sight
No comments:
Post a Comment