A walk through
I've done it thrice,
Specifically
Three people
As they lay dieing
In the hospital
My eyes scanned
Their home
Going from one thing
To another
As the scurring
Of mice.

The surrealness
Of the occasion
Had a two fold effect,
A heart for the living
And toward their things
A disconnect.

A gravitation towards
A personal connect,
Amongst
Their household items
Nothing
Seems to stand out
To do so
Would be to my heart
An element
Of disrespect.

Items that matter
Are memories had,
Occasions of laughter
Times shared
Where converstions
Drew out
Internal thoughts
And emotions
And life experiences
That now to the heart
Returns with a comfort
Or a sudden jab.
© David Hope