This poem was written in late 2015 after a difficult year spent with my ex, his family, death, and losses of many kinds.
Today, I grieve a marriage ended that started to unravel about the time the subject of this poem was making history. If I’m honest, it started before then. The events which unfolded during my late father-in-law’s illness and subsequent death only reinforced the truth behind the lie.
I read it last night at an open mic night and felt compelled to share it with all of you today.
Thanks to Kelly Fitzharris Coody for publishing this poem in Sick Lit Magazinein 2016.
The maze of hallways all seem
the same, nurses stations with sad
still faces and bent backs,
watching the clock until a light blinks
until another patient wanders past
the invisible fence of the floor.
My father-in-law does not remember
me, a stranger…
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