Certificate
When he became worse
she struggled with him to the commode,
propped him up on the bottom stairs
to dress him for the ambulance -
in a moment of clarity he whispered
I know what you are doing for me.
A man whose bed
she shared for forty years,
drenched in sweat
naked in a mixed ward
not even a screen or attending nurse.
When the young doctor
stopped her in the corridor
to discuss what he would put
on the death certificate
she told him
Put whatever the fuck you like.
Page(s) 46
magazine list
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