Sitting with the Dying - EG
I walk in upon
a relay team of elderly siblings
proficient at sitting and loving.
So easily they leave behind their own tasks,
their sewing and the calls of their grown children,
to care.
I show them how to draw up the morphine
to the lullaby of the tv laugh track
I should draw up their patience.
Instead the bull of my own will
kicks and snorts -
wants to trample to dust this outdated cereal,
this stained white doughnut box holding up the trash can,
this bowl with its dusty chocolate,
a dozen bottles, each with an inch of perfume.
Oh, how I love to do something.
