When I am dying I will breathe in triplets.

as in the tatted walls of Canyon de Chelly

Smiling, laughter, and chuckling out of breath

Will you rain for me?

Oh, the decision it must have been

Roses are red,

I’m not as sad about your dying.

There’s no need to make you cry baby

The guilt I carry

Coloring, exclaiming of Mickey,

This one’s loquacious

Our ICU has over 100 beds.

I walked with them for miles

I didn’t know if I should wake him

Up in the hills on a fine spring day

Here, in the sea-salt prairie ocean

He needs antibiotics,

Slam poetry

Can’t you stop?

Poem and drawing

Bones

I was once afraid of Death.

I know there’s something wrong this time.

A drop hitting water