Aubade

Such a simple child
small
round
sun-bathed baby
a product of passion
a love gift

tiny perfect fingers
feel soft moist earth
a soft-skinned mother
caressing careless feet
cradling a hairless head
sheltering this coincidental birth
from cruel solitude

what perfect joy
to know
and not understand

Nocturne

Cast helpless
amidst a clean white sea
of bleached sheets
cold tangled tubes
enfold a whithered figure
of dying warmth
preserve the slowing fire of life
within dimmed eyes
keep shadows of faint memory
still dancing
on a dark wall of mind

bursts of pain have been fogged to sleep
replaced by a smooth translucent flow
that softens the senses
to a humming lull

silent sterile peace
without feeling
despair detected
but not comprehended

the shriveled hand contracts

a ripple of sensation
disturbs the still water
tiny currents
jarring fragments of memory loose
faces
touches
words
remembered love

and fading from the mind
the surface smooths again
in calm
perfect peace
stilling
halting
and the fire goes out