Lawrence Hall
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https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                             Picking up a Box at the Nursing Home

In a cardboard box: a Rosary, glasses
A change of clothes, a pair of shoes, some socks
The miscellaneous bits and bobs of life
At the end of it

The nurses’ aide says she will pray for him
And probably she will; she seems nice
And truly everyone has been nice but now
It’s time to go

Some of the staff are on a cigarette break
On picnic benches out front – life goes on

A pain
Inside
That covers
The light,
Blinds it;
Fills
The room-
Suffocates it.
This isn’t just
Pain;
This is
Darkness,
Blackness.
This is
Death:
The very
Essence
Of the
End of
Life.
The lack of
Dreams, the
Absence of
Hope, the
Reality of
No tomorrow,
No way to
Be free:
This
Is
Death.
This
Is
*Depression.