A Good Day
I called today
and heard the sharp alarms
ring by his bed,
but you said
it was a good day.
He was awake and
though gagged raspy with tubes
again humor filled his sly eyes.
He Laughed at the irony
that he, of all people,
should be rendered
So through your speakerphone
I spoke to him,
uttering my limp, encouraging words
into the silent, empty air.
But you said he had heard
and with his eyes smiled,
happy to once more
be part of the conversation.
After we ended the call
I felt your cheer; not quite hope,
But not despair.
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Comments about this poem (A Good Day by Steven Federle )
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