Sitting with the Dying – EG

I walk in upon a relay team of elderly siblings

proficient at sitting and loving.

So easily they leave behind their own tasks,

their sewing and the calls of grown children,

to care.

I show them how to draw up the morphine

to the lullaby of the tv laugh track.

I should draw up their patience.

Instead the bull of my own will

kicks and snorts –

wants to trample to dust this outdated cereal,

this stained white doughnut box holding up the trash can,

this bowl with its dusty chocolate,

a dozen bottles, each with an inch of perfume.

Oh how I love to Do Something.