I was not the last to touch her,
But I was the first to touch her after she had died
Everyone in the room looked over to me and I stood
And played a makeshift coroner. My fingers read
A boundingly absent pulse

She’s gone-gone, she’s gone-gone, she’s gone

and they let the kids go home afterward,
No sense in keeping us up after we had cried.
so she might feel us there. I still wonder if it was good
her last hours lying in bed;
perhaps we made It worse

We buried her a few days later
She would have liked the service
she might have joked that she
would get a bigger turnout than any of her boys.
but I guess she wasn’t there

or maybe that wasn’t really her.
Perhaps, I have too soon forgot the words
or most things she would have said or done
Even now I cannot remember her voice
nor what she used to wear.

She’s gone, she’s gone-gone, she’s gone-gone

Michael Kennedy-Yoon received a BA in Studio Art in 2017. He always thought he would be an author, but wasn't focused enough to write, so he is an MD candidate in the UUSOM class of 2022

MED '22
Issues: Volume 7, Volume 8

Rubor Participation:
2020 Associate editor
2020 Poem, "Ocean Heart"
2020 Poem, "Hands"
2019 Imagery Content Editor