There were no lights in the room
to make him wince, the glow
from the hallway gave us lightWe kept the heat on through
an unseasonable January warmth,
he didn’t like to be bound up in blanketsIn the quiet still night he lifted his arm,
the right one he still could move,
the left at rest from the strokeHe pointed toward the wall
I asked what I could do,
perhaps another pill for the painHe nodded, though not at me,
his lips in conversation, then his
arm moved slightly to the rightI was there when they came
His lips continued arm moving again,
once more with a final nod,
an acknowledgement ending their stayWith a sigh his arm dropped
he turned his head toward me,
eyes closed, finally he sleptI thanked them for coming
and attending his journey
I’m glad I was there when they cameHe left me the next day while I was away
I wish I was there when he finally let go
but he didn’t want to hear our goodbyes
.
.
.
Author’s Note:
NaPoWriMo Day 16. I’m a day late and will catch up tomorrow.