Poetry of Issue #7        Page 34

On Hearing Your Friend Say, You’ve Gone to a Better Place
     For Lowell

When you heard someone said I should
give my sick cat “the gift of oblivion” anger sparked
at this clichéd attempt to be poetic about death

and when my cat against all odds revived
I could see it in your face,
you didn’t have to say it, and when
you were in the hospital trying to decide
whether to have that life-saving operation
and the nurse said, “you don’t look like
you’re ready to die,” and asked, “do you still
have things you want to do,” you shook your head
yes and yes again, YES roared in my ears

and when after two days you hadn’t woken up,
organs failing, and according to your wishes
not be kept breathing by artificial means,
machines about to be unplugged, I saw
your surgeon, in scrubs for another procedure,
quietly come in, her eyes searching
your chart for anything, “an interesting intelligent man”
she said of someone whose hard work to save you
super bugs sabotaged, found a 1% chance
you could…and so could we wait just
till this evening, yes, yes, YES I wanted to shout
only knew you wouldn’t have approved of us fighting

but I know with absolute certainty, and
knowing it probably wouldn’t have
made a difference, if it was your friend or me,
you would have waited

  Linda Lerner