May 15, 2017
I can breathe in, not out. Life fades. Death surrounds.
I cannot breathe out.
Then I remember
Birth.
Death.
Women who accompany,
bear each.
I breathe out
and in, as if giving birth.
She leans forward, her head on my chest. My hand on her back.
I breathe out
knowing there is struggle, pain
and End.
You are so loved I say again again and again.
Ode To the Tomato
Sliced with salt
stewed into salsa
mixed into a Mary,
savoring, scooping, slurping…
to know Lisa was to know
the endless presence, gratitude and joy
she brought
to every tomato.
On the tail end of one tomato season,
hospice came.
Mourning
and hoping for
the taste of next year’s crop,
she carefully
carefully
made salsa
for her family to enjoy
after she was gone.
How can I ever be ungrateful
as long as I can still taste
and share
a tomato?
May 16, 2017
You left
and Alone evaporated.
I stood on your porch
your body carried away
through drumbeats
and your spirit enfolded me.
I could never earn, do not deserve
the invitation into your End,
into your Next,
yet
I hold your body, you hold me
Your body is carried away, you hold me
I write this, you hold me.
Alone is gone.
