After the last drop of chemo

Has dripped through the IV

The nurses flush the site

Ice pack the swollen hand

And remove all the evidence

You look at me with those eyes.

Silent, wide and expressive,

“Can we go home now?”

We cannot, the doctors

Want you bound to this place

To this bed for another night

‘For observation’, they call it.

I observe the beeping monitor

The lumpy couch I sleep on

Your tired but hopeful face

And wish we could be home.

There is no solace here

Save what I can give you

By my presence. You sigh

As you turn to your book

And bury yourself

Under the blankets and pillows

Piled upon the Gatch bed

Wishing instead, we were home.

We will be home tomorrow

And our lives will fall back in place

As all things do, until next time

The strays I’ve fed our leftovers

Too will have to wait till then

I’ve long been unafraid of death

It is life that frightens me

Let us then, go home.