As Yo Yo’s cello sings Mascagni, I take flight on those four
Strings which bring me to a place of grace and calm. I go
To a nest too small for the rest of the world, a nest close
To the sky where passers-by are trekking to another place.
I hear them say, we’ve paid our dues: we have lived and we
Have died, and on the other side we escape a remake of that
Ultimate sorrow.
Night had begun to creep over his window sill casting a
Gloom as deep as the shadows in his room. On a dresser
In the corner, the nurse has lain a note, he knows by rote
“….its time for you to say goodbye.” The room was packed
With the departed but no one there to say goodbye.
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