Bereft

Bereft      My friend and I went to visit her husband in the hospital.
He’s been there a month now, in a coma.
When we were done, I dropped her off at the bottom of her
apartment block and waited for her to get into the elevator.
What was it like when she opened the door, I wondered.
I asked God not to test me in the same way.

Have you ever experienced that same feeling of empathy and dread? Share it. Leave a comment.

Home alone

The morning is frisky with dogs
Not ours

Coming home
The kitchen is full of flies

I let them be
To keep the house buzzing

Comments
5 Responses to “Bereft”
  1. Vincent says:

    Love “Home alone”. Truly poignant.

  2. Joe Bunting says:

    Your poems are so wonderful.

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