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With each dawn,
life escapes him in labored ways
as he’s drawn back to better days;
days of youth and laughter.
Feeling only more of himself
slip away
there is so little left to care.
Layed to waste
in a body that whines
wheezes;
weary down to his socks,
those once cool breezes
of summer
now turned to medical air
and managed care.
Pills, bills, props and oxygen lines
is all that keeps him here
beyond his time;
any willingness of his own.
A cord unraveling;
coming undone, inch by inch.
If he could, he would scream
between labored gasps of breath,
“Let me Go!
Leave me to slumber
where at least
I can be myself
in dreams.”
Carolyn Brunelle
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