I don’t like how you lie there
But your eyes search me out
Looking for a familiar face
Among a sea of servants.
I like the way you talk
Memories from the old earth
Your youth, my father, the stories
That scramble to be heard.
I watch you as you try
To lift those atrophied limbs
Limbs once so adept and strong
That held a perfect swing.
I admire your courage
Your patience in defeat
I doubt I have that skill
That fortitude in grief.
Yet, I hate I cannot be here
The words jostle, make no sound
Stay safe, stay fearless,
Stay yourself. And I? I’ll be around.