The Bed Adjacent

Covid has done a number on society. People are sick, people are hurt, people are dying and yes, many have died.

I have seen more than enough Covid related deaths than I would like to admit, but there’s more to just the sickness and death itself…

Some rooms share hospital beds, where two people lie in misery, a common ground for them to share together.

Where they both can visually watch each other suffer, get better or even die.

To watch someone pass with your same sickness has to put things in perspective…



Poem

In the adjacent bed, unable to speak. He leers at his inevitable outcome.

His bedmate lies dormant. His mind has gone numb.

The bedmate preps for leave.

The curtain hides his vision, sounds of plastic and cloth. Ears hyper-focused: a flame to the moth.

The curtain moves and the bed empty, a partner in misery, gone. A hand raises for goodbye, for he cannot speak, a tear falls from his eye.

Seemingly a hopeful moment gone wrong.

Bereave.


A Day at the Funeral Home

To anyone who doesn’t know, I work as a Removal Technician Manager for a funeral home.

Yes. I move dead people.

To be open, I don’t only move the dead. I respect them and handle them with grace and dignity, as all the dead deserve.



Poem

A source of warmth from cold hands

The sound of burning exists. Retorts cremating those claimed by Death. Memories and ash are all that will remain.

Heat creeps from doors which transform flesh to ash.

A warm welcome in the winter season.