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by Peter Humphreys

as pain
excretes itself
from every pore
your febrile eyes
transfix the door
as it is opening
slowly
opening
and as if with a
blinding light
your aching limbs
receive their rite
to closure
one more time
a worried glance
beside the bed
looks
down
towards
the floor
as
gentle hands
touch
close
your eyes
a second
just
too
soon

01/29/2007

Posted on 01/29/2007
Copyright © 2024 Peter Humphreys

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Gregory O'Neill on 01/29/07 at 10:16 PM

This strikes me as tender and caring. Thanks, Peter.

Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 01/29/07 at 11:45 PM

This feels like the death of a loved one - a gentle transition with an opening door. You have expressed this with great sensitivity.

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