hospital beds

hospital beds make people look smaller and sicker
the silly gown
the plain walls and stacks of tubes and gauze

I want to weep, and sometimes I have
but mostly there are things to be taken care of.
She's fragile
and her skin is tissue paper
and she's shaking and gurgling and shouting that she's falling forward
even though she's leaning back
and when I touch her,
skin to skin,
I am bawling.

Me, young girl, purple pants, striped shirt
bawling, sobbing beside a hospital bed
every letter, every lunch
reduced like so many into limp gray hair
fallen skin
shakes and shivers
Just another person
just another extraordinary person
just an ordinary extraordinary person who will absolutely die
and just as surely, so will I
and so will everything I've ever made or done
and everyone I've ever loved
and all those I haven't met
or known to love.