Where to put the corruption -
fluid-filled half-lungs
choked on their coughs;
until fatigue made them
tentative motions
lived on knives' edges
slipped to flesh too often;
medications eased our pain,
tubes ******* up questions
we didn't want answered.
there were no more procedures -
clinical masks hiding fears
under dry medical terms
could finally be abandoned,
traded for tears shared with the window

Death waited to steal in the room
when our backs were turned;
we let lights burn in daylight
and night to scare away demons
even for a mind too tired to read.
every word yet put to page
had been made irrelevant -
she read mountains in distance,
climbed apple trees
at home again in Pennsylvania,
savoring redness of skinned knees;
sat on dusty mesas and prayed
for things no men had seen.

The child, still afraid of darkness,
begged "if only you would eat?"
but she smiled weakly,
as if embarrassed her secret
had been discovered
and asked me to flip the switch
so she might sleep;
son, always the obedient one,
turned off the light before he left.