The morning mother died
I was deeply engrossed in something
on the television
and decided not to visit her in the nursing home.
She died alone. The mouth that once
whispered comfort to my child's ear
was now open to the world,
awkwardly caught in a final gasp
for one more precious breath of life.
She so richly deserved my presence,
paid for it in tears over the
years, a visit which was not afforded
because something, something
on the TV kept me from her bedside
The news came in a phone call. "Sorry
Mr. so-and-so, but your mother died
a few minutes ago."
I stared deeply, analytically at something, something
on the TV
that morning and wondered if this was really how her life
should have ended, so damned alone, with dead eyes staring
to the side, still hoping to see the son who was
too engrossed to be there.