so small an ending

born in '55
he looks old
sits up sharp so i say
having trouble
he says yeah, i am
and it seems cold
but he doesn't want
i know. i ask.
he confirms so we get dilaudid but it never
so much
i can't see how. sent so yellow like a big dead sun
that mourning
hover
a few thinking it won't be
maybe a two talk brief
for then he stops.
quiet
glassy dry eye


i was glad i had been
had touched him
i don't think he was even there
to know.