March 2023
Author's Note: This poem was written shortly after the death of my half-sister, who had a unique talent for taking on the role of comforter in times of family distress. When it became clear that her own days were numbered, the rest of us were left feeling abandoned and completely flummoxed. The poem tells it like it was.
One Last Favor
Why yes,
there is something
you can do for us
before you die.
You can please quit
grieving. Stop
leaking out all over us
the horror and the
dread. It’s hard
for us to watch,
we don’t like it,
we would so much rather
have you smiling like
a picture of Saint Jude,
stroking our hands and
telling us There there,
this was to be expected.
But with your whole spine
gone bent like that and
your head shaking back
and forth, your eyelids
stiff with fear and every
wasted muscle straining
to deny, deny — just where
are we supposed to turn
for comfort now?
©2023 Marilyn Taylor
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