DUST OF HEART

she watchs television

and i listen

her thin frail arm sweeping

the arms that held me close

combed my hair

set me on the fall bus

they are on fire

blackened by puncture wounds

the sharp tip seeking soft veins

morphine drip in one arm

(did i bother to look??)

"you were the one i counted on

 to look after me the most when

 i got sick like this!!!"

when i left finally i never went

back

seven christmas presents were

laid out for me under the tree

the fireplace

the short driveway

Golden Pheasant Drive

"come visit i have presents for you"

and all i could see were those

once strong robust hands

broken and beaten

as if some force had smashed

with hammers

i close my eyes now and see

her hands and arms

her face thinning

i think now

and all i hear

is my own condemnation

that i could not comfort her

while she was dying that

final year

that the fear i could not swallow

was my cowardice

there is nothing to appease

the ghosts

of this wrongdoing

i failed her

..O..