For Dick Bogue
Knowing it was his last night,
he didn’t eat or drink
because he knew
his bladder and his bowels
would empty. He wished
to spare Jane too much mess.
A kind man, Dick.
Her friend Molly had arrived
so Jane could get some rest.
He heard rain thrum the roof
and smiled. Water coursed
through desert washes
waking seeds, waking
creatures underground.
Molly soothed him
with her presence,
finally dozed, jet-lagged.
Thunder. Harder rain.
He pulled the tubes
out of his nose.
It was the emphysema
that trapped him in the bed
but Jane is sure
it was his heart
that took him out.
Penelope Moffet is the author of three chapbooks, Cauldron of Hisses (Arroyo Seco Press, 2022), It Isn’t That They Mean to Kill You (Arroyo Seco Press, 2018), and Keeping Still (Dorland Mountain Arts, 1995). Her poems have been published in many journals, among them One, ONE ART, Natural Bridge, Gleam: Journal of the Cadralor, and The Rise Up Review.
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