Poem
A Way To Die?
I was just touching him, caring for him
He was a kindly old soul
I found joy in comforting him
His unseeing eyes said thank you
His unhearing ears heard my concern.
His spirit left before his heart stopped
The alarms sounded, they came running – The Great Saviors.
I held his hand, his body shook –
They pounded his chest, they forced air in.
“They” did this – the Intruders.
At 91, who should force his stay?
How dare they slow his natural way.
He needs to go, I let him go.
I tell him so aloud!
They are aghast at my candor.
I touch his face,
A wrinkled, now unfeeling face
This touch is for me
I’m glad to have been with him,
That he was not alone.
Class: Writing From the Inside
November 3, 1990
Published: The American Poetry Annual
Patricia J. Anderson, “A Way To Die?,” In The American Poetry Annual. The Amherst Society: USA. p. 30. (1991).