so this is it, then
the view outside his hospital window;
the strip malls you will memorize
while one day he eats, one day he will not
or cannot, the almost-painted trees
you will count when you can not keep counting his breaths
and must look elsewhere;
raising your eyes for only a moment
to look out, look up, look away
learn the blueness of granite
rolling under sky in the distance,
a thicker blue
your spirit will sometimes skip over
far back, beyond the Cumberland plane;
that framing denser than sky
that speaks to what they are,
once newborn and screaming edges like the Rockies
now smoothed to Appalachian swelling
a lesson in those foothills,
how time will round out and soften
what seems unspeakably raw and sharp;
impassable terrain, implacable
and unmoving
just remember, in this bitter journey
you begin to walk
you do not always have to blast through
what you can flow over
or float above.
Susan Daniels Poetry 
this is beautiful Susan…hoping she can find some peace in these wonderful images.
Thanks–me, too.
So well done, so insightful, so capturing of an experience and a setting.
Thank you, Nelle. When she sent the picture of the view from her husband’s hospital room, this came to me. Had to roll with it.
What a beautiful poem. I’ve been there — when we “must look elsewhere”
Beautiful imagery. Thanks for sharing.
Sally, thank you. Me too, having looked elsewhere. Glad it spoke to you.
Susan, this is deep. Time is the perfect healer – in the end!
Yes, time is the healer, Noel–we all just have to get there somehow.
Lovely…
Thank you so much, Karen.
I’ve been planning to write a similar poem (hospital setting) for a while but having read this I honestly don’t think I can do anything better.
Oh, my, thanks. You know what? Try it–you never know what beauty is being whispered in your ears until you let it out.
Aye that’s very true