Getting Ready

I’m a sick man now
Gaining weight,

Laughing at dreams
Long forgotten –

Making peace with God,
Getting ready,
While my heart keeps
Skipping each beat.

There are things I’ll miss
When it comes –

Like dances
Without any music,

Swaying in place
Near our kitchen
As my wife’s bright eyes
Stare me back.

This distance between
Life and death
Feels far too short
For forgetting.

She holds my hand
Every morning
Asking if sleep
Offers rest.

I tell her that
Waking up close
Besides her warmth
Where she nestles
Remains what proof
There is meaning
Beyond lost years
Soon to pass.

Hope yields
Needing some cure.

It’s believing how pain
Provides chances
At enjoying short days
Though despondent
Such time will elapse
Without proof –

Only those hearts
Left behind,

Carrying these memories
Around like chains
We had given
On holidays spent
Staying home.

Perhaps love’s trade
Was implied.

Many wait years
Never seeking
Heaven’s good grace
Through redemption
Achieved by another
Who searched.

Can eternally scar.

Hurts after knowing
Soulmates find
Oddest moments
Always entering tales
As they end.

  • J. Pigno

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