Sunday, February 21, 2010

Air Held and Let Go

His death was not air
held and let go:
gurgling, rise in the chest

head up, fighting for breath.
Years later
nights

are no easier.
Hospital rooms, long
corridors, dark
curtains drawn.    She draws her body up

night after night going deeper.
Each
morning awake

she is startled
she is here

she has found her way back.

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