The Last Breath
On a day when the sky
Is a deep clear blue
And the air is winter crisp
I begin positioning myself
Sorrow bearing down
For the long hard labor
We have made love for the last time
The last tender Saturday morning
Behind us
The mortgage is paid off
And my last period a dim youthful memory
Even the last grandchild has arrived
I can’t remember our last really good fight
I may have thrown something
And now
I wait for the last breath
We have learned to share so well
It doesn’t matter which one of us
Takes it.
(Cape Rock, 35 (1)
