Antiseptic, the smell of death

Lingering, acrid fumes invade

Thoughts, no longer the calm

Of a life, no longer vibrant

Bells, alarms, invading silence

Nighttime falls, eternal sleep

The room, stifling with stale air

Yet, a subtle breeze blows

As curtains hang, world-weary

Watching a soul fly, into the light….

Author’s note:  This poem came to me while I was in the hospital twice over the weekend.  I hope I don’t return anytime soon…

©2019 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
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