Old Woman
She slipped into a coma,
fell away,
her ghost groping;
not blind, but blinded,
as if the life in her head
were too bright.
We bundled her things,
squeezing shoulders,
taking deep breaths
dizzy with relief.
A nurse hastily covering
gray naked toes.
The old woman found herself
on her mother’s lap.
Dead pets,
impossibly young lovers,
the father she hated
but still dreamed of making love to;
they spiral together in a drop of water
as ageless as rain.
A funeral service:
we put a stone on her head
then left her. For a while,
the new turned soil was silent,
but then her condition
began to shake the earth
with girlish laughter.
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