EDITH

EDITH

by Richard E. Noble

I guess, I thought it would always be,
my life, my health ... my longevity.
I’d never need ... not me ... not I!
I was the kind that would survive.
I’d always be, like I used to be.
Filled with the spirit ... filled with me.

But now, despite myself, it’s all gone.
I exist like a rock …
the thought of a stone …
sleeping ... unknown.

I thought when I reached a point such as this,
I’d tip my hat, and with a shrug and a sigh,
I’d wave to the crowd ... blow a kiss,
and tell the world ... good-bye.

But here I sit as helpless as a child,
crying all night, and praying for a smile.
I hate to say it ... it makes my ego blush,
but I don’t wish for death,
be it from a bang, or a purr felt hush.

God forgive me, but I’m in no rush.
As bad as it may be
and in this sad state as you can see,
as helpless and dependent, as I may be,
I still long to look out my window and see;
a cat with a string,
a boy with a rope,
a bird with a worm,
a pear with a frost,
a tree with a leaf
a day with a sun,
or the raindrops, as down my window, they run.

I’m old and as useless as I can be
but I pray ... I honestly pray …
please God, can’t there just be, a tiny, tiny bit more ...
… for me?