will I put lipstick on you
when you lay still and silent
as the last morning
or will you pull the sheet
over my face gently
with a surprised sense of relief
when my final breath
marries the gray air
will it be in the room
where we slept
under the watchful eye
of children and grandchildren
their timeless images nailed to the walls
ever present but mute
while they navigated worlds
with horizons we would never see
or would it be in the
hallowed house of hospice
where palliative words like
“we will miss you”
“not long now,”
“you can go, it’s OK,”
float above the beds
like birds stalled in flight
riding unseen currents, but
soon to swoop down
to perch on mystic memories,
briefly,
before flying into
the karmic night
Oct 2, 2013
Oct 2, 2013 at 7:56 PM UTC
will I put lipstick on you
when you lay still and silent
as the last morning
or will you pull the sheet
over my face gently
with a surprised sense of relief
when my final breath
marries the gray air
will it be in the room
where we slept
under the watchful eye
of children and grandchildren
their timeless images nailed to the walls
ever present but mute
while they navigated worlds
with horizons we would never see
or would it be in the
hallowed house of hospice
where palliative words like
“we will miss you”
“not long now,”
“you can go, it’s OK,”
float above the beds
like birds stalled in flight
riding unseen currents, but
soon to swoop down
to perch on mystic memories,
briefly,
before flying into
the karmic night
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