when death comes closer
it can make our bones
show prominently
under taut skin
revealing
harsh edges
where before flesh
was softening our countenance

what sharpens our face
blunts our senses

   is this a friendly face
   familiar
   or just the shadow
   of an anonymous nurse
   doing her duty

words spoken
become difficult to understand
and to reply
a major effort

the touch
of a caring hand
feels sweet
but to respond in kind
   is almost impossible

between relief of letting go
and fears of the raw loss
of our world
decades of living bear us down
a sense of systems closing quietly
prevails

you wonder whether
you will see again
the friendly face
that says
   it will be back
tomorrow