April 22, 2014

Sepulcher


We left our portico door
ajar last night, to feel 
the cool breeze, you said,
wind carrying
the hum of life
from the hospital 
close nearby.
Someone's monitor
skips and jumps
until it has run dry.
Nurses note 
the passing time  
with a little sigh.

No one would say 
we're to blame, 
resting here,
fresh air flowing
around our names
like a rising tide,
everything so much 
cooler now, rushing in
from the other side.

4/14/2014