intubation number six

As soon as I saw her I knew she had hours to days, not days to weeks,
not weeks to months,
but hours to days.

When her lungs were too tired to keep staving off death,
her withered, white-haired balding husband burst into the room
and burst into choked tears:
"Oh, God bless you, I love you"

he planted a kiss on her forehead

his trembling lips tortured, his cry agonal

around the room all the women's eyes were wet

some of us no doubt wondering if our love
in our dying breaths
is destined to be like that.

blue hyacinth

this unruly beauty a three dollar whim
its stalks unkempt green dreadlocks that dare to dream
a new dream against the crackling blizzard at the window pane