Each change in her
Condition and I would
Rearrange my life. Getting
To the store and back would
Take some planning I could
Rush through and dash back.
Also the lady who bathes
Her would have to come on
Fridays instead of Thursdays.
I never did learn how to change
Her sheets. She wasn’t drinking
And would hold the water in her
Mouth. She wouldn’t swallow
And would hum perhaps some
Songs in her sleep. She
Couldn’t talk and tell
Me about her pain. I’d watch
Her face and if I saw it contort
I’d give her the morphine.
My life will change again
Now that she’s gone.
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1 comment:
Lawrence,
Going through some old emails in my account today, I came across one of our last correspondences, and clicked on the link to your blog.
I'm so sorry to hear about Susan's passing. I'm deeply moved by your poems. I pray that you will find comfort in the memories and in that other kind of presence that remains even when the physical person is gone.
Bunny
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