death arrives
tomorrow
for you
whose voice still
sounds like
spring
Do you remember
The day you met
at her Sweet Sixteen
The spice rack
she bought for your
first apartment in
Brooklyn
Your three children
just starting to
become
The coffee you shared
every morning
waiting for the world
to rise
Her voice is the
only one you can
hear
without an aid
sixty five years
later
Physician-assisted
death arrives
tomorrow
for you
who decorated my
childhood
with elephant
figurines
We are not the only creatures made for love
Lamplight pools
golden
in the hollow
of your missing eye
I am glad to know
your smile
exactly like this
A sunflower
laden with petals and
every one is a
“love-me”
It lists left
with all the glorious
asymmetry
of the human
heart
Physician-assisted
death arrives
tomorrow
for you
whose best friend
comes to
cut your hair
Just a trim, like always
You sit
resolute
beneath his shaking
hands
Gnarled
and hopeful
as the bristlecone pine
wending its boughs
ever upward
from arid soil
You will depart
believing
in a world
worth reaching
for
Physician-assisted
death arrives
tomorrow
for you
who will soon
hug the mother
you never knew
in life
Thank you for being with me tonight
Your lilacs are in bloom
The front room
is filled with shoes
belonging to people
who will always belong
to you
The cardinal that will
remind your daughter
of you
has not found the
garden yet
We gather for our
lamplit thanksgiving
in a world already
reborn
EB Messineo is a CDY1 at the Perelman School of Medicine.
Art by Montita Sowapark, an MS1 at the Perelman School of Medicine.
