going
i remember my first time with dying
it came suddenly and stayed
i didn’t know how a dot could be a line
i feel it surreally, still today
the murmurs in the hallway easily blending
into the cycles of daily caretaking
we went through the patient list each morning
and silence would follow the reporting
it was her name, her status…nay, her brain’s state
for the stroke in her head kept growing
forcing her mind to keep going
so by morning there was again news for mourning
dot dot dot
how does a dot become a line
and when can we stop tracing
when should we stop tracing
wondering
breathing
nearly grieving
then someone’s lips were moving
seems like the clock kept ticking
our steps start following
to another name, a better state
living in moments of going