Thursday, July 2, 2015



Every breath is a sigh.
Will she last until tomorrow?
She saw me adjust her
Oxygen, with eyes following
Briefly as she understood,
But not fully, vaguely;
Then she drifted back to sleep.

I put the nozzles back
In her nostrils, and heard
Her sigh more clearly than
The music from the next room.
This is wholesome I thought,
This sighing, It isn’t groaning
Nor saying good bye.

There is little now beyond
Watching.  I listen to her
Sighs, give her water,
Adjust her blanket and sheets.
Does she still know me?  She
Seems to, looking up now and
Then to watch me watching.

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