Tomorrow May Be the Day

I watched you turn dead
In that hospital bed
The nurse and your cat
A crutch and a hat
With pillow in hand
What put to your face
Gloves on nightstand
A grimy suitcase
The collar was loose
I’d shucked off my boots
Crackers and juice
And doctors in suits
Looking at your rigid limbs
It’s difficult not to think
About the time I spent
Laying on the couch
Sleepless
One eye on the door
One eye sealed shut
Until the door opened
And in you came
Whisky on your breath
Death in your eye
Your shallow skin
Parched red
Making making me
Taste the fear
Taste the pain
Taste the love
We used to share
My dear
This is the day
I’ve always looked forward to
The day when i could say
You’re very much alive
You’re breathing just fine
But tomorrow may be the day
You’ll never know, dear
Darling, there’s something here in this sack
The garden and the trees
And the flowers and the bees
They’ll never have a chance to grow back