DEATH WATCH.

A YOUNG NURSE WATCHES AN OLD WOMAN DIE.

The matron says, I want you
To see someone die, it will help
You understand the other side
Of our work, so you follow her

Along the passage to a room
To one side, where a small old
Woman lies in bed with her eyes
Closed and breathing heavy.

You stand by the bed opposite
The matron who stands like some
Carrion bird looking down. That
Sound, she says, is the death rattle,

When it stops so does she. You
Stare at the old woman, watching
Her rising and falling breasts, the
Sound echoing around the room,

The drawn blinds keeping most of
The daylight at bay. You wonder
What the old woman’s last thoughts
Were, whether she is still thinking

Now, pushing through the dense
Fog somehow. Her silver white hair
Is plaited and neat and most of her
Body is shrouded in a white sheet

From her chin to her feet. The matron
Looks at you, her eyes large and
Brown like those of a cow, seem
Full of I have seen it all before kind

Of stare. You study the final rise
And fall of the woman’s breast, the
Last breath never comes, just silence
And she, the woman, finally, at rest.

Reviews

[Another Relic]

Sad and scary to think about. You always make your poems so real. Good job Terry.

[Lily Mae]

This has stirred so many emotions with me. A true, raw, and excellent write on the topic of death.. To often, (I think) people are left alone and broken in those final moments. With the work that I do, I see it as a spiritual passage of being birthed back to home.. But some do struggle so.. and alone.. Wonderful write that obviously struck a cord in me today :) xx