Tuesday, October 9, 2012

Poem submission #15 "WHILE HE LIES DYING"



I wrote this in bits and pieces while huddled in a pool of moonlight that shone on the kitchen floor in the early morning hours of the last
8 months of my SO's life.

WHILE HE LIES DYING . . .

Weakened, wizened and wasted; a skeletal spectre hands crossed upon his chest, this gaunt ghost of the man I once knew sleeps at last, perchance to dream while he lies dying

Tubes slither like snakes into his stomach and chest; skin stretches, drum tight, over a framework of bones; fingers, toes, hands and feet twitch and jerk his body dances to a rhythm all it's own while he lies dying

I make myself a bed upon the floor
of sofa cushions and stolen hospital blankets so I can sleep beside him, close at hand once more a vigil of penance, a labor of love while he lies dying

I shut my eyes, shut down my mind
take refuge from the endless struggle of the day, these treasured moments, too few and far between, are my only reprieve from the anguish of it all while he lies dying

His laboured breathing is my lullabye
filling the small, cramped room
drowning out the insidious ticking of the clock, marking the seconds as they slip away while he lies dying

Like a foghorn sounding in the night,
his voice penatrates the darkness;
bringing me out of the haze of utter exhaustion that has passed for sleep these many weeks while he lies dying

Cigarettes, cold drinks, piss pots and pills, each time he awakens with a different need half awake I fumble around in the dark, half asleep I operate on auto-pilot while he lies dying

I drag myself back to reality and forced vigilence; wet sheets and burned rugs; painfull reminders of how and why I must watch over him always while he lies dying

He returns to sleep, but not for long,
providing me another break,
an escape from this rollercoaster of emotions, for a moment we both find relief while he lies dying

I stand beside his bed and review our past, reflect upon his present, realize my future; facing the facts, accepting the inevitable, I prepare myself to live again while he lies dying

while he lies dying.

by: Tim Morgan

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