Showing posts with label My mother on her dying bed. Show all posts
Showing posts with label My mother on her dying bed. Show all posts

Monday, March 9, 2026

Hard Labour

 


Never been so aware of the lungs as bellows;

how basic it becomes when, in dying,

one is reduced to breathing and we are

watching each breath

like you are lifting shovel-fulls

and so alone in the effort 

and we so useless.