Checking Out

[edsiejka]

Checking Out

by Edmund Siejka


In the dimming of twilight
My wife holds the phone close to her ear
Lines of worry crisscross her face
She is talking to her sister
Whose husband is in the hospital
And has taken a turn for the worse.
“Charlie is not doing well
He’s in a lot of pain and
The drugs they gave him
Aren’t working.”

Feeling guilty
I eavesdrop
Catching bits and pieces of words and half sentences.
Soon I stop listening
When the drift of their conversation
Turns to all things funeral.

When it’s my turn in the hospital
I’ll be sitting upright
Propped by two pillows
Sipping Bourbon
Listening to classical music
Until the refined host
Introduces Chopin’s Nocturne No. 2
Played by the Vienna Philharmonic
The volume will not be too loud
But loud enough for me
To feel the orchestra’s strength.

I know the hold of mortal flesh
Is strong
So I will lift my cup
To the patient nurses
Knowing when it’s time
For myself to leave
I will let intuition guide me
And help my spirit
Cross the night.

[wylde]

your poem recalled this image for me:





Thank you for that.

☮

[edsiejka]

Thanks so much !!!

[jackofnightmares]

I used to wish that I would die before my siblings, I could not bear to think about mourning them.
that was seventy years ago, now that I am preparing myself for my own passing over that funeral even horizon
I still feel the same.
please accept
my condolences.
thank you for the poem



It was a good death

I can only pray that I get to die outside a hospital under the desert sky filled with stars, where I can feel the tender indifference of the stars.
That is my death wish.
But death is inconvenient
R: the —Nun of Amherst.

[jackofnightmares]

If I do have to die in a hospital I hope it will be the Saint James Infirmary.
And from my deathbed, I can see out the window to the people dancing in the parking lot
I hope I get to dance my own wake

justsayhighjack

[saw]

I lost 3 friends in 2019, all younger than I....lost my dad....and so my mortality has been on my mind....I know I want my ashes scattered on the Gunpowder River....those trails kept me sane and able to love.....
thanx for the poem
touching

[wylde]

I apologise for the broken links via photobucket.
A global outage of over a week with meaningless platitudes.