TERMINAL…in the depths
A life being discarded,
apparently preparing to be recycled,
tossed into a painful uncertain sea,
death an unknown door in the distance
standing ajar.
The edges all fade
into a grey, half light.
There are no sunrises, sunsets,
no brisk clear air,
just a body bag breathing.
Time…confined to the next breath.
The mind…fusses in irrelevance,
dull, grasping, unfocused,
isolated.
The body…appalling, naked,
confined, restless,
without purpose or meaning,
in a searing, writhing stew,
infantile and helpless.
The heart…trickles energy,
reaches, longs to touch
the other or be touched
by friend, nurse, daughter, my God.
I cry
and somehow find a sweetness,
obliging endurance.
Time…still confined to the next breath and
why in God’s name, get another?…
July 2019
