Feeling Judas Poem by Bill Cushing

When moments of sadness
invade us,
they are
as bad as guilt.

"It's for the best, "
and it was,
but I had to repeat that
as I drove the old woman
I took care of but
never cared for
to her new "home."
She begged me
to turn the car around
and even offered me her checkbook.

It was the only
moment of pity
I ever felt for her.

Now
I look into pleading
tears
as I hold my son's arm-
struggling against his wishes
and the yards of tape
meant to keep him
from ripping out
the needle
that will feed him-
while doctors, nurses, and technicians
wrap bandages
around the electrodes meant to measure
his brain,
and again I think:
"It's for the best"

feeling the pangs
of feeling Judas.