Drowning** Poem by Neil Young

Out there, March fields wear daffodils;
Each trembling mouth mimicking
Your nervous, shallow breathing.

In here you're fading, numb with morphine;
Lips are dry and mumbling, gulping
Air in short, fast breaths…How long now?

One hand fits mine, your son, my mother;
This role reversal giving back
Some comfort given as a child.

Nurse senses pain, administers
A larger metered dose; you sigh,
You fly euphoric from it.I ask

If you are there and lift an eyelid;
Your stare elsewhere, unfocused, straight
Ahead.I've seen this when you daydream.

"Mum!Can you hear me? "As I ask
Your hand grips mine; one sudden reflex,
Nothing more, just breathing, breathing…

You're slipping back into a dream,
But one you won't retell or wake from;
Slowly losing thought, like drowning…

Out there, those fields wear daffodils,
Your favourite flower; each trembling mouth
Mimicking your shallow breathing.