Night Shift

Night Shift

(for those who wait with the dying)



I want to hold back Death:

Impossible of course,

But every time I try,

Standing in the way,

Arms outstretched

As if to halt

A bolting horse,

It passes through

As if I, not it,

Were insubstantial mist.

And I feel a touch

Across my face

Of trailing cobwebs

Or frosted feathers

Stiff with ice.



4 thoughts on “Night Shift

    • It’s kind of in nightgoggle vision or starlight camera to me but grey is good.
      A year or two after this was written, I sat with my husband’s stepfather for the same reason and it felt just the same. The relief when that moment of passing comes is so profound; the feathers touch and they are gone.

    • It is.
      I was 36 before I first saw a dead person(human person) and I’d been visiting him up until 5 days before his death, for treatments, before he became too unwell to be able to have any more massage. His wife asked me and my husband if we’d like to see him laid out and I didn’t know how to refuse. I am glad I didn’t. It changed me.
      Two years ago we sat with my stepfather-in-law while he was dying; again a hugely profound experience, though I had gone out of the room when he passed.
      I bet you have some powerful stories to tell, Jenn.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.