Without A Doubt
My mind has closed
Though my eyes are wide open.
Nurse Practitioner says six months:
No more.
Time to get real—
Make copies for the lock to the door…
Mine eyes have seen the Glory,
But that’s not for me.
Got to complete a DNR
For sure.
God, it’s too real—
There IS NO CURE.
Can hardly catch my breath
But my heart is full.
Medicare or Medicaid?
It’s such a blur—
Lilly can handle it
Of that I’m sure.
Yes, God has quit:
Apostasy has its rewards.
My memory escapes,
But I pray for clarity.
I know I don’t make sense—
I embrace your kind charity.
“Weak, I have become”
“Strong with the Force I am,
But not that strong—“
No doubt.
But it doesn’t take a Jedi
To let it all hang out.
The wide yon abyss calls—
Ringed in heather, grace, and lavender;
All the papers are signed—
Please pardon my scrawl.
Laissez le Bontemps Roulez
Y’all!
Posted on December 11, 2015, in Poem and tagged acceptance, Advanced Directives, AFIB, alzheimer's, charity, clarity, Congestive Heart failure, COPD, Deat, diagnosis, DNR, door lock and key, dying, Getting Real, grace, heather, hope, hospice, Jedi, Laissez le bontemps roulez, lavender, Lilly, Medicaid, Medicare, Nurse Practitioner, relief, scrawl, Yoda. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.
Kitt
pueriles 