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© Photographee.eu

Vigil

© Photographee.eu I The hospice nurse was shaving his slack jaw when we arrived. Unresponsive was the word she had used. His body was a still plank on the narrow bed. He gulped deep seismic breaths, three minutes apart. My brother brushed his hair. II Because I knew hearing was the last to go, I said the necessary—we’re here Dad, you’re not alone🔒

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Tina Schumann lives in Seattle, Wash.


Posted in: Poetry, Quaker Libraries

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