Week 9: Morphine

in lonesome darkness

Week 9: Morphine

the body rests in lonesome darkness

Morphine

you are in the bed

upright

and calm

an Orlando Sentinel lays unread on the nightstand

The Price is Right plays in the background

the Republican party calls to collect one last donation 

a thin white sheet covers your thin white skin

anxious bodies blanket you with silent prayers

caretakers, paid and voluntary, act out the sacred rites

as you watch with distant eyes

morphine dripping off your lips

while we all say our goodbyes

Description: This poem is a quiet, unsentimental vigil at the edge of death. Through precise, ordinary details—television noise, an unread newspaper, political robocalls—it captures the strange banality that surrounds profound loss. Medical imagery and ritual gestures intertwine, framing dying as both clinical and sacred. The detached calm of the subject contrasts with the anxious love of those gathered, creating a tender meditation on mortality, presence, and the intimate stillness of goodbye.

Reflection: Who is someone you had to say goodbye to one final time? What significant details, ordinary or special, do you remember? What aspects of the moment were personal for you and what were shared with others?

GO TO: WEEK TEN