Sundown — Poetry — Headless Now — Moca McCarty Photo

Sundown:

in this sundown time, lights dimming, approach of what can only be a final day — I listen to my father’s cough, a growing symptom of heart failure, sensing the heavy strain each chest heave places on his now fragile body, feeling each cough as if it were my own. There is no getting better, no diet fix to ease congestion, no medicine to ease another symptom. He’s dying.