Dead Winter

trees outside heavily laden with ice— night rain continues a plump woman shivering, teeth chattering— near the fireplace the door opens and gusts of cold air burst in— the nursing home my grandmother lying in bed starving— no food allowed I watch helplessly while her bony hands squeezed mine— ninety-eight years old after nine days I hear Grandma’s last gurgle— crying and one kiss © December 8, 2011 Dane Smith-Johnsen Written for Poetry Soup Member Contest: Dead Winter Sponsored by: Sidney ~ LeeAnn FORM: Haiku Series