Our unrealistic attitudes about death, through a doctor’s eyes
I.
Collapsed
Head tucked under a small table
Feeling fibers of her life unweave
Willing herself back from sweet oblivion
Awoke the next morning,
Her last sunrise,
Called the bank, her lawyer
Signed endless forms
Called to say goodbye
Before the final rest
II.
Deliverer of dreams,
Prayer of the pushke,
Days after her loss
He found his first professorship,
Weeks after,
Baby blossomed in my infertile womb
III.
She still visits me in dreams,
Four years later,
Many nights I find my arms filled with her lost paintings,
Her fingers covered in costume jewelry turned treasure,
Her slender wrinkled hand in my own
IV.
I will light a candle,
Lend my unborn daughter her name,
Pray for her safe passage