Poetry: Jennifer Lagier
The Circus of Death
by Jennifer Lagier
Weekly, the hospice nurse
records mom’s weight loss,
shrinking body mass,
trouble thinking straight,
growing depression.
When she complained
she never wanted to be 90,
who knew someone up there
was eavesdropping,
would grant mom’s request.
I pay her bills,
balance books,
help with cooking,
yard work,
tax preparation.
On good days,
she dresses, puts on lipstick,
works crossword puzzles
while sipping hot tea
through a straw
at the kitchen table.
More often,
she sleeps late,
barely eats.
Sometimes
never changes
out of pajamas.