Nurse

December 2011

I wonder what it must’ve felt like
To look over at me sitting there
With my short, multicolored hair
You hated when I dyed my hair
And you didn’t have the use of your own mouth
To tell me how very much you hated it

Till the very end, you held on so strongly
Like you really thought you would win
But we all knew better
You kept trying to get up
You kept trying to leave the Cancer
And you tired us out
All three of us exhausted from
Putting you back in your hospital bed

And such modesty
On the concrete steps of Death’s door,
You held on so fiercely
Half of you here in pain
Half of you somewhere I can’t see

I was your Nurse
I tried to make it as comfortable as possible
All the while, choking back my tears
And whispering those Catholic prayers
You and I both learned in Catholic school

And there are things one cannot
Unhear or unsee
Like, the constant echo of
the oxygen machine
Or
The sound of your
Lion heart
Still beating