Poets & Poems (by Dennis L. Siluk)) Part XXIV) Our Last Conversation (The Unmentionable)

Poets & Poems
The Globetrotter Poet
(A Journal by: D.L. Siluk)) Part XXIV))
(Reviews, Commentaries, Short Stories and Poems)[10-27-2006]



Our last Conversation
(The Unmentionable)) Poetic Dialogue))


It seemed that she had composed herself for sleep
(or perhaps something more deeper)—:
“You’re not going away (I hesitated to say)…are you?” I murmured.
“Not far.” She replied.
“Stay with me,” I said.
“Another time,” she commented.
“You’re going to sleep!” I stated.
“I’ll feel better when I wake up, I don’t want to go to sleep, but…”
her eyes half opened, she fixed them imploringly on mine.
“I simply must go.” Hearing that, my fingers had clinched themselves onto the white hospital railing of the bed.
“I wanted to go home yesterday, but the taxi driver just rode on by the house,” she said, disappointed, a ting sad—looking for some kind of confirmation.
“It was a dream mother,” I said, with a regrettable voice (my heart broken, not by choice), “just a dream, you’ve been here all the time.”
“Good heavens,” she then, looked at my worried face.
“Don’t worry son, I’m all right with dying,” she said it boldly, and stern, the way she lived for eighty-three years. (I knew it was bound to happen, soon, but who is really prepared for such a day? I don’t know.)
The next thing I knew she was sleeping (she slept for three-days; she’d never wake up).

It’s all over now—like a bad dream
It will never be the same (like we were before).
I think she remained a few minutes longer to assure me
The unmentionable was all right to mention—
(that death had no sting, for her).

As I bent over her bed—the blood in her arm, still warm,
I wept, “It’s ok,” I said, “go see the Lord
I’m sure you’re anxious to, and he’s been waiting.”
I could feel that last trace of life fading—
Now, like a dreamless calm, everything settled
In the hospital room.

#1539 10/27/2006