I am here again,
at the bedside
holding vigil
with wives, sons, and daughters,
as time drifts
with each breath.
We spoke for
days,
hoping and praying,
swearing and screaming,
raging
at this passage
beyond;
life.
The question:
at each stage,
in every encounter
asked-
in a myriad
of permutations;
remains
eternally
the same.
You knew
the countdown
had begun -
the moment
you oozed and slipped
your way
into that first
sucking-screaming inhalation
of life.
Yet
we all yearn
grasp-claw-scratch-fight
to know,
to have an iota
of an incling
of when
of where
of how.
I have the sad
wisdom
of knowing
when the final
countdown
has begun;
and yet,
am powerless
to know
anything more
to soothe
the wounds
of that vacuous
space
between-here-now
and expiration.
