Wednesday, April 27, 2016


Sitting in underwear,
Slight tremor on the side,
Planes, boats, cars all equidistant from me,
Still, far enough to hide,

This is a moment outside of real life,
Where others still exist,
You can't escape into yourself out there,
The way my mother did at the hospice,

When I asked her how she was feeling, then,
She said she's letting go,
Of the world, her husband and children, too,
TMI? I don't know.
I read to her,
A book called The Dinner,
'Til she silently waved for me to stop,
I laughed the last laugh of the remainer.

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