Unexpected sunset

I am participating in the
 Slice of Life.  
All participants are writing about one moment, one part of their day, 
on Tuesdays.
Thank you, Two Writing Teachers!

My husband's brother is in hospice, at end of life. I wrote this poem as we traveled by car from Maryland to Georgia, to be alongside him. Have you had that sensation where every song you hear seems to apply to the pain you are currently feeling? This was true for us, as we drove...and influenced this poem a bit. 

Unexpected Sunset

Unexpected sunset,

sky bursting

red and orange,

white, gray, and darker still,

interspersed with puffs of blue,

followed by

a gorgeous

full moon.

Last breaths.

Many long highway miles,

stretch and fatigue,

so many aching

thoughts,

fleeting words,

whispers of love,

all along the highway,

as we travel

to be bedside

before

last breaths.

Listen to Roseanne and Bruce wail,

like a lost ship,

adrift on the sea,

sea of heartbreak,

lost love and loneliness.

We are heartbroken,

this suffocating pain,

a life too short.

Unexpected sunset.

Full moon.

Last breaths.

In the midst of so much pain,

there is great beauty.

A patio set

I am participating in the
 Slice of Life.  
All participants are writing about one moment, one part of their day, 
on Tuesdays.
Thank you, Two Writing Teachers!

My Dad, 90 years old next week, was recently moved into a nursing home, due to complications from Parkinson's. My Mom died last October. This summer, we finished emptying my Dad and Mom's house, and then we drove a U-haul filled with treasured belongings from their house in Maine to my home in Maryland. This poem is about one of those treasures, a patio set, that now resides at my house.

A patio set,
wicker, soft, and blue,
a place for them to be,

a gift of love just a few years back,
to welcome them
to their new home in Maine.

A patio set,
wicker, soft, and blue,
easing them into

a small home with caregivers, after
the abrupt end of their life in the south, 

in a coastal paradise. 

A patio set,
wicker, soft, and blue,
meant to help them adjust
to less independence,

a place for them to be,
in hopes of helping them feel more at home,
to remind them of the beach and the sea.

A patio set,
wicker, soft, and blue,
we hoped they'd spend years
sitting, enjoying the birds and the trees,
surrounded by their
cherished photos,
familiar trinkets,
loving family.

Not to be, not to be.

A patio set,
wicker, soft, and blue,
is now my place to be.

Although not an an heirloom or antique,

instead, purchased for them

recently,

it is lush with meaning.

A patio set,
wicker, soft, and blue,
reminds in the midst of birds and trees,

of strong and fragile,

of living, breathing, loving,
of all that is possible and might not,
of how things change.

A patio set,
wicker, soft, and blue,
new to me, meant to be.