Goldie Kornblatt Dnr - A Sonnet Poem by Lewis Eron

Last time Goldie Kornblatt breathed all alone
Was a rainy Monday no more than a week ago
The day after post-op. They cut off her toe
She eat lunch, ran a fever and spoke on the phone
With Gerri her daughter, the pain pierced her bone
She shuttered, she rattled, I know that you know,
So they called a code just before she could go
To heaven. And now the quite steady drone
Air pump and monitors, the empty busy tone
Of death on hold and Gerri, Morris, cousin Joe
And friends observe doctors with students in tow
Point, posture and proclaim the wisdom only they own
But She’ll die of bad mazal. The truth they can’t speak
It wasn’t her heart but our knowledge that’s weak