Sucking on your orange popsicle —
all hospice palliative meds allow,
you speak of fried egg sandwiches
with ketchup, which I don’t hanker for, thank you,
but I love knowing your cravings for humble tastes
last through your final days.
Our passions may withstand
cancer and memory loss. Our tongues
still ask for what they want,
like astronauts on a far-away planet
answering to a distant captain’s call.
Before we say our most important I love yous,
you shift to the topic
of the brain, how amazing
this sack of fat
that has so much to take,
that has so much to give.
Pamela Hobart Carter's poems have appeared in Barrow Street, The Ekphrastic Review, and The Seattle Star, among others. Her most recent poetry-involved events included curating a science poetry journal in theater form for Infinity Box Theatre Project and reading her poems at South Seattle College Community Chorus's spring concert.
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