There’s a wrenching poem on Slate by one of my favorite poets (and VCCA buddy), Elise Partridge. Here's an enticing excerpt from "Last Days":
My friend, you wouldn't lie down.
Your wandering IV pole
glided with you, loyal,
rattling on frantic circuits;
crisp pillows didn't tempt;
round, around, around,
guppies cruised the lobby tank,
flickering sunrise-slivers
all guts, mouths urging, urging; ...
Read (or listen) here.
