Covered up to the neck,
They wouldn’t let me see
The apparatus that let his chest
Rise and fall.
Rise and fall.
Hypnotized by the rhythmic movement
The hiss of the machine on the outbreath,
The click of the machine on the inbreath.
Rise and fall.
Rise and fall.
Comfort was the most important.
I held his hand at the end,
He felt no pain they said,
Rise and fall.
No more.
Write a good, hard, simple poem. Prompt 135, the 3 a.m. Epiphany.