Prompt for RWJ, Prompt 315

I felt ill yesterday for no rhyme or reason. Maybe it’s all the junk food I’ve been eating. It was a kind of nausea that presages death, that’s how it was. All I wanted was sleep. But I’ve come back from the dead now. Good as new. Maybe. I slept through the entire National Day parade. Reminds me of the time it happened during Christmas and I slept through the entire Christmas party. Not good. So guys, try to eat healthily ok? For today, write about illness.

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7 thoughts on “Prompt for RWJ, Prompt 315

  1. The Smell of Death

    They urged me forward, “Go say hello”
    they said, but he was asleep… I hoped,
    sleeping behind the wrinkles of pain.
    I tried to remember him tall and gentle,
    a shy smile lighting his eyes, toting the black
    bag he carried to doctor sick animals.
    He took us kids on calls sometimes
    in his 1940s Chrysler Sedan.
    By that time he was retired,
    just doctoring as a favor and passing time.
    But now walking into this quiet room, shades pulled,
    the sounds of shallow puffs through thin lips,
    an occasional quiet moan, sheet drawn over
    yellowed parchment skin and sharp bones
    frightened me. My first face to face
    with the ancient foe, and I’ll always recall
    the smell of death not quite disguised
    beneath the medicinal scent of Lysol.

  2. MAMA’S PASSING

    It’s the old story:
    somebody loses,
    somebody wins.

    Mama lies there,
    her hand in mine,
    as she sleeps her way
    to Paradise.

    Early Saturday
    we lose her
    at the same moment
    Heaven gains her
    (absent here,
    present there)

    not our voices
    telling her we love her
    but angelic voices
    singing hymns
    of welcome.

    While Mama ascends
    the crystal stairs,
    the feet of her soul
    tinkle the sentiments
    our fragile hearts
    could never express

    #

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