Deathbed (rough)

poem February 10, 2021

Deathbed (rough)

Late nights waiting By the hospital bed cold and bright Warm drip drip Of the morphine Putting up a fight Wandering halls alone with old friends Here in the light Stories shared and known We cried, raged, and cried B-ball games so tight

I’m pretty sure I wrote this after reading a chapter of Being Mortal by Atul Gawande. I’m not sure where that last line came from. It doesn’t seem to fit, but I doubt I’ll change it anytime soon and I like the rest of it.