We danced
when we thought you would live.
We were tourists
among the ghosts in Old Town Albuquerque
walking past the crowds past the Navajo code talkers past the past.
Toward a song of streets a quinceañera?
a block party?
Amplified music. Dehydrated Air.
The night before my niece’s wedding.
When we thought you would live we danced.
33 then 34 then 35 radiation treatments mouth sores, coughed-up blood stomach tube, skin the trunk of an oak morphine and then more
more
more more
morphine
you were so brave, my love
Standing, swaying, singing with the band.
Even holding onto your walker, you led me across the floor.
We danced
when we thought you would live.
I picked a flower and twisted it into a curl of my hair. I
picked you, a jewel of a man.
I let you pick me. Together, we danced.
2 Responses
This is so lovely and touching. It brought me to tears. I lost my husband of 44 years, 2 years ago. It has been and still is, such a struggle.
Thank you so much! I’m sorry for your loss… My contact info is above if you are interested in writing classes with others who share your experiences. It’s a supportive way to express feelings, similar to, but very different from a support group as we access our connection through creativity as well as loss.