Day I
No one knows
Could have been a wobble
or a slow slide…a slipper
jetting in front of the foot
a landing, arm extended
reach to
he is alone breath
submerged to bottom-a flat
expiration in his bedroom
Two ounces of strength left:
one to grasp the pillow,
the other to deliver prayers
into the tufts of carpet while
the heart cups the blood
lactic stilled, stammering
hemlock drips vaulted
behind a time lock
Day 2
broken door chain
Day 3
His children are no longer flesh
They are filo and bamboo
a fence that surrounds him
waiting in vigil flanking the bed,
candle pillars with the bright
disposition of eternity
He awakens to these saints who
breathe into his cheek pores
caress his face—
they need to touch the body silk
skin cold fever a condensation.
Day 4
His language, their memory, his commands
The desires before death
: to rise
: to be quenched
: to construct the jaw
: to reach for glasses
: to not know the last word
: to not sweat the sheets
: to not fear
: to control the shape of the face
: to leave sooner
: to never leave
: to hold the circle
: to be the sun
Day 5
The whisper is prayer
or permission or
the final breath exhaled
into the mouth of his son
or in the heart beat thumb pulse
that he shared — captured in
his daughter’s palm he didn’t need
to ask it settles
he might leave her
to peace
At least that what she sees
She tells me: white owl wings
the fluttering inhabits her hands
they beat and tremble and lift open
this final ascension loosened.
POETRY FESTIVAL. Submit to site for FREE. Submit for actor performance. Submit poem to be made into film. 