I arrive at his hospital bedside to find him much closer in his harrowing and humiliating decline. Despite the pain that even morphine and dilaudid only dull, he welcomes a stream of visitors. His eyes fill with tears as I squeeze his hand and tell him I love him.
We always knew it would be lung cancer, yet we cannot believe when the diagnosis comes.
blue iris
the color of his eyes
fleeting as smoke
"Art does not reflect the visible; rather, it makes visible" ~Paul Klee
5 comments:
pacing
this empty hall
in search of my last word
as tears control my sorrows thought
farewell
_m
A beautiful tribute, Magyar. Thank you. It has provided me comfort that my former father in law has promised to hug his namesake for me on the other side.
... and I returned to simply say, two fine haibun. But now, tho I know no names and needn't, I too understand.
love these haibun
john
The haiku in this context is really stunning. Good job, Nora. --Diane
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