TO SLIP

Fragile old man

He lies sleeping but not still

On a narrow bed with wheels and motors

The sheet at his back cool and smooth

A vague shape beneath a cotton blanket

Thin but heavy pure white

I look down at him

Paper skin over bones of chalk

I am selfish

I want to wake him

Hear him speak and see him smile

But I do not

His chest rises and falls

Breaths short and shallow

That start with a twitch

A microscopic gasp

Puffed out past dry lips

An exhausted sigh

His hands twitch

With opiate dreams

A brow furrows then melts 

Now a tight-lipped grin

He's holding a small child

Or perhaps turning a screw

The release of a spring

Or a shudder from cold

A leap from a branch

Or stumbling on a ledge

I watch it pass by

But am unable to tell

Another breath

His lips scarcely move

A whisper answers a question

Asked only of him

Another breath

Fragile old man

Fish~

21 September 2014