I think about death a lot.
About my son, my mom, my neighbor.
I think about how easy it would be
to not deal with all this crap any more.
As I sit , trying to catch up on emails,
my heart starts to pound, I feel sick, shaking.
I wonder if the death angel has come for me.
It scares me more than I thought it would.
It lasted a long time, sweating, panting.
I miss my son and mom and others.
I wonder where I’d be if I hadn’t stayed here.
I wonder why I had to stay here when my son left.
And I see the dream chaser I made
For my grand kids today and think, “Maybe I know.”
