Hospice
Giving up,
we lose ourselves
in soft denials,
tally up bone-tinted
Kodaks – recall
brief glints of eye,
succinct resemblances
of generations.
Listlessly,
we wait
death’s domination—
cool brushes
of wind,
flutterings
of waxen wings
& last breaths,
dusky, distant
as the webbed
membranes
of memories.
Copyright © Glen Enloe | Year Posted 2009
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