Lying There

He looked like an Auschwitz victim.

Like a tiny helpless baby bird.

I wanted to cradle him in my arms,

But fed him ice chips instead.

It’s what he preferred.

He looked into my eyes

Just moments before he died.

Lying there naked, as he had come into the world,

In the presence, of his little red-haired girl.

A woman-child thinking,

“This is not my idea of a happy ending.”

Copyright Suzanne Norton 2015

About Suzanne

I write poetry, flash fiction, quotes and personal essays. Words flow forth like a river that cannot be dammed. Writing is my soul.
This entry was posted in Cancer, Daughter, Death, Dying, Father, Poetry and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

18 Responses to Lying There

  1. Suzanne, oh, so much said in so few words. How lovely and yes, I too, am shedding some tears. xoxo Tiffany


  2. Tom W. says:

    I read to him (a book he’d started about the history of Nantucket whaling). We talked about love and the peace he felt knowing there was nothing on the other side – that he’d lived this, his one and only life, fully and unabashedly, and was proud of his three sons. For him it was scrambled eggs and yes, ice chips too – and then he just stopped eating. Now, every time I see an old man’s wrinkly hands, just briefly I think they’re his. I’m ever-so grateful that his second wife did this:


  3. I of July says:

    Poignant yet so perfect. Really touching – felt this one


  4. winfred says:

    😦 makes me sad


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