Poem: I Saw My Father's Death

 I Saw My Father's Death

I do not know if he was there,
in the predawn hospital:
he had been asleep so long,
a body, but only that,
unmoving flesh, even his breath
given over to machines,
his face buried behind tubing.
I do not think that breathing stopped.
He was dead,
but I think there was still breathing.

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