Late night shift with a patient struggling
to breathe. Fighting death, she twisted & writhed
on the bed. Watching her battle, I thought of
You. And how breathing is so much like loving.
Death just sneaks up on you and confuses like
a love that poisons the blood. How can you ever
Learn to breathe artificial oxygen that is killing you?
Sometimes I wake at night to find the bed covers twisted
around me and the space beside me empty. Still.
I watched her fight end. Finally. The emptiness that moved into
her eyes and wanted to shatter the mirror before me.
Peace & Love,