Published 24 Mar 2019
Like a new moon waxing full,
They shuffle around his bed,
Minding the architecture converging on his head.
Tearful son, resentful daughter, dazed wife,
And granddaughter peaking past clutched mother,
Journey, to usher him on his own.
Acceptance – choking and wordless –
Broken only by
Shrill machines who couldn’t let go
When the Silent had.
Originally published in “Blood and Thunder: Musings on the Art of Medicine”