We are waiting for the
physician to come and sign
off on discharging my mother
from the hospital.
Two days ago another
doctor drained an egg size
aneurysm that had ballooned
in a vein that fed blood
to her liver.
The square of blue sky
Out the window is obscured
by a large, brown
electrical box.
You can see the top of some pine trees distant.
It is a room with a view-
just not a great view.
Two days ago,
when you came with me
for one of several visits
You had commented on
The view,
So today as I look
out the window,
I think of you
and this improves the view
immensely.
There are people who will
have a discharge of another kind-
Not to home,
Well, to a larger home, perhaps.
My mother will be discharged
from this hospital to her home.
She will walk out of here.
The other ones, discharged
from their bodies,
They will fly from here.
All of us fly eventually-
Home? I hope.
February 2010
