Vigil

Stillness seeds this cell
of death-borne illness,
underscores the needs 
of one who cannot
function by himself.

Bedsheets icy white, 
blooming flowers 
in bright profusion
litter uselessly.

Monitors wink, blink 
their indifference; 
scant recognition,
little consolation for
a father and his 
sorrow-stricken son.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2008

Poem

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Gass Avatar
December 21, 2008 at 4:17 PM
Beautifully written but sad. A heartbreaking situation. When my friend Nancys mom was dying we lived at the hospital and took turns just sitting and talking to her, whether she knew us or not. I did the same thing with Moggie. Sat on the floor next to her bed, holding her hand. She was aware someone was there but no recognition. Your talent never ceases to amaze me. Love Robin
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